IDENTIFYING HOUSEHOLD CLUSTER AND REFUSE DISPOSAL PATTERNS AT THE STRAIT SITE: A THIRD CENTURY A. D. NUCLEATED SETTLEMENT IN THE MIDDLE VALLEY

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

By

Jarrod D. Burks, B.A., M.A.

*****

The Ohio State University 2004

Dissertation Committee: Approved by Dr. William S. Dancey, Advisor

Dr. Kristen J. Gremillion Advisor Dr. Kevin J. Johnston Department of Anthropology

Copyright by Jarrod Burks 2004

ABSTRACT

In this dissertation I examine a problem in the study of Middle-Late Woodland

period community re-organization in the Middle Ohio Valley through an analysis of the

Strait site, a little known, third century A.D. archaeological deposit in central Ohio.

Previous research in the region indicates that during a three-hundred-year period between

A.D. 200 and A.D. 500 the organizational structure of settlements—the location and

arrangement of households within communities—changed significantly through a process

of household nucleation.

I propose that patterning at the Strait site resulted from the secondary

refuse disposal behaviors of contemporaneously occupied household areas. To evaluate this proposition, I first develop a working model of household trash disposal patterns

using principles of refuse disposal generated from ethnoarchaeological data. The

expected pattern of refuse accumulation is then compared to the Strait site archaeological

record through an analysis of debris collected during a shovel test survey. Artifact clusters are detected through a distributional analysis of four dimensions of artifact variability: size, function, density, and diversity.

I conclude that the Strait site artifact patterning is consistent with the secondary refuse disposal patterns predicted by the ethnographically derived model. I then identify the possible locations of five to six households at the Strait site. Two of these locations

ii are further examined using geophysical survey and block excavation. The partial remains

of structures are identified at both. Assuming that these possible household clusters are contemporaneous, as I argue, the Strait site is the earliest known nucleated settlement in the region.

The presence of a nucleated community at Strait during the third century A.D. indicates that the transition from dispersed to nucleated communities began at the peak time of Hopewell earthwork construction and use—sometime before the Hopewell decline. By the time this process of community re-organization was widespread in the sixth century A.D., the Hopewell ceremonial centers had been abandoned. The new settlement data presented in this dissertation are an important example of early household nucleation in the Middle Ohio River Valley. These data also support the proposition that

household nucleation began in locations peripheral to core Hopewell areas.

iii

For my wife Susie, my wonderful parents, Judie and Don, and the rest of my family.

Your support has made this possible. And though the years have slipped by and the distance has grown somewhat greater between us, you have always been right here with me.

iv

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I was initially enticed to come to The Ohio State University by a generous

University Fellowship. I thank the Department of Anthropology for finding other ways to

support me after that first year. The Ohio Archaeological Council also graciously

provided the funds to purchase the four radiocarbon dates for the Strait site.

No project can be successful without the supportive encouragement, patience, and generosity of the true stewards of the past—those who own and protect archaeological sites. The owners of the Strait site, John and Kathy Ridenour, have seen me through the whole way, though some years they did not see much of me. I promise to come back and fill in my holes!

While I have taken many classes from a wide variety of teachers, none of my classes affected me more (in good ways!) than those taught by the members of my committee. Only with their guidance and encouragement was I able to see this project through to the end. A trip to Guatemala to conduct some household archaeology in 1998 with Kevin Johnston hardened my resolve to apply similar techniques and ideas in Ohio.

Kris Gremillion’s hunter-gather and origins of food production classes honed my skills at absorbing broad bodies of literature. And, finally, one of the main reasons I chose The

Ohio State University was to learn how to study settlement patterns under William

Dancey; it was the right choice.

v Many, many people helped out with the fieldwork at the Strait site. Twenty field

school students in 1997 provided the first work crew. Their commitment to learning,

despite the many horrific cases of poison ivy, was a great inspiration that has fueled my

research for many years. Thereafter the list of weekend warrior’s is very long. If you

were in central Ohio and/or had a bad case of poison ivy between 1994 and 2003, you

just may have helped out on the Strait site project. A number of individuals were

especially committed to helping with the search for meaning at the Strait site during this

period, including Tom Ahlstrum, Donna Alvorado, Bob James, Chris Luchsinger,

Kendrick McNamee, Brian Narbut, Nisha Patel, Jennifer Sandusky, Marsha Stadler,

Dean Wheeler, and Larry Wickliff. A number of my fellow Ohio archaeologists gave up

a day, or more, for me somewhere along the way during a visit to Ohio or in

reciprocation for help on their projects: Bruce Aument, Kathy Brady-Rawlins, Chris

Jennings, Craig Keener, Anne Lee, Tim Lloyd, Linda Pansing, Crystal Patel, Albert

Pecora, Jennifer Pederson, Lauren Seig, Tori Seneda, John Schweikart, Ted Sunderhaus,

Joe Wakeman, (and his Hocking college archaeology class), and Dawn Walter. Though

some of you have since chosen different paths, my research benefited in so many ways thanks to your help and friendship.

Like macheteros clearing a path through a Central American jungle, a few hardy soles consistently took up arms to help clear the lush vegetation at the Strait site, especially John Schweikart, Ryan Wertz, and Gilberto Sanchez. Thankfully I am the only one to suffer from an errant machete swing.

vi Don Gehlbach and Barbara Motts were very kind in opening their home to me so that we could talk about past projects at the Strait site. It was their interest in and work at this important site, in part, that ultimately led to my research. Thank you!

Two individuals have consistently supported my research through sharing information with me or providing me access to some of their own, unpublished research.

Martha Otto made me feel right at home during a number of Saturday morning trips to the Ohio Historical Society to begin pulling together the Zencor/Scioto Trail materials and maps. Mark Seeman has discussed his work at Harness-28 with me on a number of occasions. Thanks to the both of you for sharing your knowledge and hard work.

Additional thanks go to Liz Sheffer and Dr. Kristen Gremillion, who took time out of their busy schedules to look at some of the botanical samples. Erica Keener was kind enough to draw the objects in Figure B.31.

Finally, my family must be thanked the most for their perseverance through this decade-long process from B.A. to Ph.D. My parents, Don and Judie, supported my crazy idea to change my major to anthropology—never once questioning my resolve. Of course, none of this would have been possible without the continuing support of my wife

Susie. Thank you all for believing in my quest to better understand the Middle-Late

Woodland period and that thing we call Hopewell.

vii

VITA

November 13, 1972………………… Born-Aurora, Illinois

1994 B.A. Anthropology, University of Illinois, Urbana

1996 M.A. Anthropology, The Ohio State University

1994-1995 University Fellow, The Ohio State University

1995-1996 Research Associate, The Ohio State University

1996-1999 Teaching Associate, The Ohio State University

1999-present Archaeologist, Museum Collections Manager, Hopewell Culture National Historical Park

1999-present Adjunct Professor, Hocking College

2002-present Geophysical Survey, Research Archaeologist, Ohio Valley Archaeological Consultants

PUBLICATIONS

Burks, Jarrod 1999 Postmolds, Pit Features, and Prehistoric Architectural Remains in the Eastern Woodlands: Understanding Variability in Prehistoric Household Clusters. Journal of the Steward Anthropological Society 27(1&2):28-62.

1997 Of Birds and Bees: An Overview of Sexual Selection. Chicago Anthropology Exchange 25:38-52.

1995 An Interregional Comparison of the Surface Patterning of Two Western Mississippian Sites. Midcontinental Journal of Archaeology 20:3-40.

viii 1995 The Twin Mounds Surface Collection Lithic Assemblage: Intrasite and Regional Interpretations. Tennessee Anthropologist 20:35-57.

Burks, Jarrod, and Charles Stout 1996 Controlled Surface Collection and Salvage Data Recovered from the Twin Mounds Site (15Ba2). In Current Archaeological Research in Kentucky, vol. 4, edited by S. L. Sanders, T. N. Sanders, and C. Stout, pp.234-262. Kentucky Heritage Council, Frankfort, Kentucky.

Stout, Charles, Greg Walz, and Jarrod Burks 1996 Archaeological Investigations at the Canton Site (15Tr1), Trigg County, Kentucky. In Current Archaeological Research in Kentucky Archaeology, vol. 4, edited by S. L. Sanders, T. N. Sanders, and C. Stout. Kentucky Heritage Council, Frankfort, Kentucky.

FIELDS OF STUDY

Major Field: Anthropology

Minor Field: North American Prehistory—Eastern Woodlands

Settlement Archaeology

Household Archaeology

Woodland Period Archaeology

Geophysical Survey Techniques

ix

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

Dedication………………………………………………………………………….… iv

Acknowledgments………………………….………………………………………... v

Vita…………………………………………………………………………………... viii

List of Tables………………………………………………………………………… xiii

List of Figures……………………………………………………………………….. xv

Chapter:

1. Introduction………………………………………………………………….. 1

Background to the Problem……………………………………………… 4 Middle Woodland Period (200 B.C.-A.D. 400) Settlement.………… 5 Early Late Woodland Period (A.D. 400-800) Settlement..………….. 9 The Hopewell Decline and the Origin of Nucleated Settlements…… 14 Summary………………………………………………………………… 20 Defining an Archaeological Unit of Study: The Household….………… 21 Approach of the Present Study………………………………………….. 22

2. Middle-Late Woodland Period Households in the Middle Ohio Valley: Modeling Household Cluster Content and Form……………………………. 25

The Household Archaeology Approach…………………………………. 25 Household Archaeology: A Brief History…………………………… 26 Seeking Households in the Archaeological Record…………………. 30 Architectural Facilities of the Household……………………………. 31 Studying the Use of Space: Activity Areas………………………….. 36 Refuse Disposal…………………………………………………...…. 39 Household Clusters: Select Middle-Late Period Examples…………. 46

x Chapter Page

Modeling the Household Cluster…...……………………………………. 52 Using Household Cluster Models……………………………………. 53 A Household Cluster Model for Middle-Late Woodland Period Settlements in the Middle Ohio Valley………………………….. 58

3. Regional Background………………………………………………………… 63

Introduction………………………………………………………………. 63 Regional Culture-Historical Context…………………………………….. 63 The Natural Setting………………………………………………………. 69 Geology………………………………………………………………. 70 Physiography………………………………………………………… 70 Pedology……………………………………………………………… 72 Precontact Vegetation and Fauna……………………………………. 75 Archaeological Background…………………………………………….. 78 1983 Surface Collections……………………………………………. 79 1985 Sycamore Run Project…………………………………………. 81 1994 OSU Testing…………………………………………………… 83

4. Research Methods: Fieldwork……………………………………………….. 86

Field Methods……………………………………………………………. 86 Shovel Testing……………………………………………………….. 86 Surface Collection…………………………………………………… 91 Geophysical Survey…………………………………………………. 92 Block and Unit Excavation………………………………………….. 98

5. Artifacts, Analysis Procedures, and Laboratory Techniques……………….. 102

Processing the Samples………………………………………………….. 102 Analysis Techniques…………………………………………………….. 103 Fire-Cracked Rock………………………………………………………. 108 Pottery……………………………………………………………………. 109 Lithics……………………………………………………………………. 112 Bone……………………………………………………………………… 114 Flotation Samples and Botanical Specimens……………………………. 115

xi

Chapter Page

6. Chronology at the Strait Site………………………………………………… 116

Introduction………………………………………………………………. 116 Radiocarbon Dates……………………………………………………….. 116 Pottery…………………………………………………………………… 118 Stone Tools………………………………………………………………. 119 The Distribution of Chronological Indicators……………………………. 120

7. Research Results: Distributional Analyses and the Location of Potential Household Clusters at Strait………………………………………………… 121

Introduction……………………………………………………………… 121 Shovel Testing…………………………………………………………… 123 Fire-Cracked Rock…………………………………………………… 125 Pottery………………………………………………………………. 129 Lithics……………………………………………………………….. 135 Bone…………………………………………………………………. 149 Summary of Shovel Testing Results………………………………… 153 Geophysical Survey Results…………………………………………….. 165 Magnetic Survey…………………………………………………….. 166 Electrical Resistivity Survey………………………………………… 170 Block Excavation and Features…………………………………………. 173 Surface Collection……………………………………………………….. 181 Defining Settlement Structure at the Strait Site…………………………. 183

8. Summary and Conclusions…………………………………………………… 185

An Integrated Model of Middle-Late Woodland Period Settlement Change in Central and Southern Ohio…………….…….. 187

Alternative Models of Middle-Late Woodland Settlement………….….. 193

End Notes……………………………………………………………………….…… 199

References Cited………………………………………………………………….…. 201

Appendix A-Raw Artifact Frequency Totals Per Shovel Test Block…………….…. 231

Appendix B-Figures……………………………………………………………….… 239

xii

LIST OF TABLES

Table Page

1.1 Change in community organization through time…………………………… 2

1.2 Chronometrically dated early Late Woodland period villages, with a summary of important characteristics……………………………………….. 11

2.1 General relationship between occupation and abandonment duration and settlement structure……………………………………………………… 46

2.2 Chronometric dates from Middle-Late Woodland period habitation sites with architectural household cluster remains………………………….. 47

2.3 Summary information on possible household clusters from eight Middle-Late Woodland period sites in central and southern Ohio…………... 49

3.1 Data from select artifact classes from the 1983 gridded surface collection at the Strait site……………………………………………………. 80

4.1 Sample information from the shovel test blocks……………………………… 90

4.2 Excavation unit and block location, size, and disturbance status…………….. 99

5.1 A matrix demonstrating the relationship between zones of refuse accumulation and artifact variability………………………………………………………… 106

5.2 Pottery surface treatment relative frequency…………………………………. 110

6.1 Radiocarbon dates obtained from the Strait site……………………………… 117

7.1 Frequencies of select artifact classes per shovel test block………………….. 124

7.2 Standardized fire-cracked rock frequency per shovel test block……………... 127

7.3 Standardized pottery frequency by size class per shovel test block………….. 130

xiii Table Page

7.4 Standardized counts of lithic debitage by size class per shovel test block…… 136

7.5 Degree of clustering measure for select artifact classes……………………… 141

7.6 Standardized lithic debitage class frequencies per block…………………….. 145

7.7 Standardized stone tool frequencies per block……………………………….. 147

7.8 Standardized burned and unburned bone frequencies per block……………... 150

7.9 A matrix demonstrating the relationship between zones of refuse accumulation and artifact variability…………………………………………. 157

7.10 Cluster content matrix and artifact class diversity per cluster……………….. 158

7.11 Artifact cluster interpretation summary……………………………………… 160

7.12 Standardized frequencies of important artifact classes recovered during block excavation……………………………………………………………… 178

8.1 Radiocarbon dates from select “Late Adena” and early aggregated settlements……………………………………………………………………. 190

8.2 Expected evidence of permanent sedentism highlighted by alternative models of Middle-Late Woodland period settlement………………………… 195

A.1 Fire-cracked rock raw frequency per shovel test block………………………. 232

A.2 Pottery raw frequency by size class per shovel test block……………………. 233

A.3 Lithic debitage raw frequency by size class per shovel test block…………… 234

A.4 Debitage class frequencies…………………………………………………… 235

A.5 Raw frequency of stone tools per shovel test block………………………….. 236

A.6 Burned and unburned bone raw frequency per shovel test block……………. 237

A.7 Raw frequency of select artifact classes recovered from block and unit excavations……………………………………………………………… 238

xiv

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Page

B.1 Middle Ohio Valley region in the Eastern Woodlands………………..……… 240

B.2 Map of barricaded, early Late Woodland period settlements………………… 241

B.3 The ditch and embankment (to left of ditch) at the Ety site, Fairfield County, Ohio………………………………………………………... 242

B.4 Map of select sites containing probable household cluster structural facilities……………………………………………………………………….. 243

B.5 Select structure plans from known Middle-Late Woodland settlements….….. 244

B.6 Working model of a Middle-Late Woodland period household cluster………. 245

B.7 Middle Ohio Valley region showing the Strait site and Fairfield County…… 246

B.8 Important sites in the Strait area……………………………………………… 247

B.9 Rock Mill Earthworks, Fairfield County, Ohio (from Squier and Davis 1848)………………………………………………. 248

B.10 Upper Jonathan Creek area with recorded Hopewell sites………………….. 249

B.11 Project area and the Strait site……………………………………………….. 250

B.12 1938 aerial photo of the Strait site area……………………………………… 251

B.13 1964 aerial photo of the Strait site area……………………………………… 252

B.14 Drainage patterns in the Strait site area……………………………………… 253

B.15 The “Big Swamp” and its location relative to modern-day Buckeye Lake………………………………………………………………… 254

B.16 Strait site project locations, 1983 and 1985………………………………….. 255

xv Figure Page

B.17 1983 surface collection artifact distribution (all artifacts)…………………… 256

B.18 1983 surface collection artifact distribution, showing the locations of biface fragments, bladelet cores, amorphous cores, and bladelets…………… 257

B.19 1983 surface collection artifact distribution, showing the locations of projectile points, pottery sherds, and unifacial lithic tools………………... 258

B.20 “Mound-like” topographic feature in unplowed area excavated in 1985…….. 259

B.21 1994 OSU shovel testing at Strait in unplowed area…………………………. 260

B.22 1994-1995 shovel and posthole test locations………………………………... 261

B.23 Shovel test block numbers and shovel test locations…………………………. 262

B.24 1999 surface collection area in agricultural field adjacent to unplowed area……………………………………………………………….. 263

B.25 Systematic transect survey results, all artifacts………………………………. 264

B.26 Surface surveyed areas and prehistoric archaeological deposits in the vicinity of the Strait site………………………………………………….. 265

B.27 Geophysical survey block locations………………………………………….. 266

B.28 Excavation block and unit locations………………………………………….. 267

B.29 An example of fire-cracked rock by size grade………………………………. 268

B.30 Select rim sherd profiles……………………………………………………… 269

B.31 Decorated and formed ceramic objects………………………………………. 270

B.32 Select bladelets and flake tools……………………………………………….. 271

B.33 Middle Woodland period, Lowe Cluster projectile points showing the range of resharpening………………………………………………………… 272

B.34 Eleven modes of fracture variability………………………… 273

B.35 Distribution of eleven modes of projectile point fragment variability……….. 274

xvi Figure Page

B.36 Select groundstone objects…………………………………………………… 275

B.37 Middle Woodland period, Lowe Cluster projectile points………………….. 276

B.38 Non-Middle Woodland period projectile points…………………………….. 277

B.39 Distribution of Middle Woodland period objects…………………………… 278

B.40 Standardized fire-cracked rock frequency per shovel test block……………... 279

B.41 Distribution of fire-cracked rock Size Classes 2-5 by count per shovel test…………………………………………………………………….. 280

B.42 Distribution of fire-cracked Size Class 1 by weight per shovel test…………. 281

B.43 Separated distribution maps of fire-cracked rock Size Classes 2-5 by count per shovel test………………………………………………………….. 282

B.44 Fire-cracked rock cluster types based on size class (contours in meters)……. 283

B.45 Standardized pottery sherd frequency per shovel test block…………………. 284

B.46 Standardized pottery sherd weight per shovel test block…………………….. 285

B.47 Distribution of pottery sherds, all size classes, per shovel test.……………… 286

B.48 Distribution of pottery Size Classes 1-4……………………………………… 287

B.49 Distribution of the degree of pottery fragmentation per shovel test, with an overlay of pottery clusters and Size Class 3 and 4 counts per shovel test……………………………………………………………………. 288

B.50 Pottery cluster locations with an overlay of Size Class 3 and 4 sherd counts…………………………………………………………………. 289

B.51 Relative frequency of sherds in shovel test blocks according to size class….. 290

B.52 Standardized frequency of debitage in shovel test blocks according to size class……………………………………………………………………… 290

B.53 Relative frequency of debitage size classes per shovel test, ranked according to Size Class 2……………………………………………………. 291

xvii Figure Page

B.54 Distribution of lithic debitage, all size classes………………………………. 292

B.55 A degree of clustering measure for use in comparing the distribution of objects across a set of collection blocks or units…………………………. 293

B.56 Distribution of debitage Size Classes 1-4…………………………………… 294

B.57 Major lithic debitage clusters and larger debitage locations………………… 295

B.58 Distribution of shatter per shovel test………………………………………... 296

B.59 Lithic debris size class cluster, shatter cluster, bladelet, and utilized flake distribution…………………………………………………….. 297

B.60 Bone, burned and unburned, distribution by shovel test…………………….. 298

B.61 Artifact cluster boundaries based on shovel test data………………………... 299

B.62 Diversity index of select artifact classes across object clusters……………… 300

B.63 Artifact cluster interpretations……………………………………………….. 301

B.64 Artifact cluster interpretations with flake tool distributions and proposed household clusters…………………………………………………. 302

B.65 Magnetic gradient data in Excavation Block 2 area…………………………. 303

B.66 Magnetic gradient data in Excavation Block 2 area with interpretation…….. 304

B.67 Magnetic gradient data in the plowed field east of the unplowed tract..…….. 305

B.68 Magnetic gradient data in the plowed field area with excavation units and additional interpretations………………………………………………… 306

B.69 Processed electrical resistivity data in unplowed area……………………….. 307

B.70 Processed electrical resistivity data, with an interpretation overlay…………. 308

B.71 Excavation Block 1 plan view……………………………………………….. 309

B.72 Excavation Block 2 plan view, partial structure……………………………. 310

B.73 Excavation Unit E, 1 by 4 meter trench, plan view…………………………. 311

xviii Figure Page

B.74 Relative frequency of select artifact classes per 1m2 in excavation units…… 312

B.75 Decorated and formed ceramic objects……………………………………… 313

B.76 New projected settlement boundaries and probable household cluster locations in areas tested……………………………………………………… 314

B.77 Chronometrically dated late “Adena” and early aggregated settlements……. 315

xix

CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

In this dissertation I examine a problem in the study of Middle-Late Woodland

period community re-organization in the Middle Ohio Valley (Fig. Appendix B.1)

through an analysis of settlement structure at the Strait site, a little known, third century

A. D. archaeological deposit in central Ohio. Previous research in the region indicates that during a three-hundred-year period between A.D. 200 and A.D. 500 the organizational structure of settlements—the location and arrangement of households within communities—changed significantly through a process of household nucleation

(Dancey 1988, 1992, 1998; Wymer 1993).

Dancey (1992) has hypothesized that the process of household nucleation began in Hopewell populations early during this three-hundred-year period, perhaps by the third century A.D. He argued that both nucleated and dispersed household communities were present in the region and that nucleated communities occurred first in areas peripheral to the main Hopewell centers. By the end of this period, nearly all formerly dispersed household communities had been transformed into tightly packed, nucleated villages, some of which were surrounded by ditches and embankments.

1

Table 1.1: Change in community organization through time.

Table 1.1 illustrates this trend of community nucleation during the Middle-Late

Woodland period. Many examples of dispersed and nucleated settlements from this

period of time are known. However, until my work at the Strait site, no examples of late

Middle Woodland period, nucleated settlements were known in any detail. Questions

such as exactly when, how, and why this process of nucleation occurred in the Middle

Ohio Valley have yet to be adequately addressed by archaeologists. In part, these

questions remain unanswered because few known settlements date to this period.

Furthermore, there is virtually nothing known about households during this period.

This dissertation examines a portion of the Strait site in an attempt to understand

the significance of the site’s distinctive artifact patterns. The results of previous work at

Strait have found that artifacts at the site are clustered. A wide range of cultural and natural site formation processes could have formed these artifact clusters, but in this dissertation I propose that the artifact patterning at the Strait site resulted from the

2 secondary refuse disposal behaviors of a series of contemporaneously occupied household areas. I arrive at this conclusion by first developing a working model of household trash disposal patterns using principles of secondary refuse disposal outlined by Schiffer (e.g., 1972, 1987), Hayden and Cannon (1983), and Deal (1998), among others. This expected pattern of refuse accumulation is then compared to the distribution of artifacts at the Strait site through an analysis of debris collected during a shovel test survey across an unplowed portion of the site. Artifact clusters are defined through an examination of the spatial distribution of four dimensions of artifact variability: artifact size, artifact function, artifact density, and artifact diversity.

Based on this analysis, I show that the artifact patterning at the Strait site is consistent with the secondary refuse disposal patterns predicted by the ethnographically derived model of household refuse accumulation. I then identify the possible archaeological remains of five to six households at the Strait site. Two of these possible household locations are further examined using geophysical survey and block excavation.

The partial remains of structures are identified at both household clusters. As will be seen, the artifact styles of pottery and projectile points, coupled with radiocarbon dates, confirm the contemporaneity of the artifact clusters. Therefore, the analysis leads to the conclusion that the Strait site represents one of the earliest known nucleated settlements in the Middle Ohio Valley.

The presence of a nucleated community at the Strait site in central Ohio during the third century A.D. indicates that the transition from dispersed to nucleated communities began in some areas at the peak time of Hopewell earthwork construction

3 and use—sometime before the Hopewell decline. However, by the time this process of community re-organization had become widespread—in the sixth century A.D.—the great Hopewell ceremonial centers had already been abandoned. These new settlement data provide important information about early household nucleation in the Middle Ohio

River Valley and support Dancey’s (1992) proposition that household nucleation first began in locations peripheral to core Hopewell areas.

Background to the Problem

In the last two hundred years of research about the Middle-Late Woodland period

in the Middle Ohio Valley, archaeologists have focused on four major themes: mortuary ceremonialism (Brown 1979; Clay 1998; Dragoo 1963; Greber 1991), interregional exchange (Brose 1979; Seeman 1979; Struever 1964; Struever and Houart 1972), community or settlement organization (Braun 1986; Dancey and Pacheco 1997; Keener and Biehl 1999; Maslowski 1985), and the decline or collapse of the Hopewell (Braun

1977, 1986; Dancey 1996). Despite increasing research on Middle-Late Woodland period settlement (Dancey and Pacheco 1997), ceremonial site investigations still outnumber those of domestic settlements. Furthermore, no regional surveys focused on entire settlement systems have yet taken place. In fact, few surveys of Middle Woodland period sites comparable in scale to Prufer’s work in the 1960s (Prufer 1967) have occurred since, though some important surveys have been conducted (e.g., Blank 1972; Genheimer

1984, 1997).

In the following sections I briefly discuss what is currently known about Middle-

Late Woodland period settlement patterns. From this discussion it will become clear that

4 there was a significant change in community organization from A.D. 200 to A.D. 500, few nucleated settlements are known from the late Middle Woodland period, and few archaeologists have been able to explain why settlement nucleation occurred.

Middle Woodland Period (200 B.C.-A.D. 400) Settlement

Archaeologists have used Hopewell earthwork complexes to debate Hopewell habitation practices during the Middle Woodland period since the early nineteenth century. In the early stages of Hopewell research, the great geometric earthworks and burial mounds of central and southern Ohio attracted the most attention. Caleb Atwater

(1820) was one of the first to contemplate the habitation practices of the Hopewell. He surmised that the earthworks, with their many gateways and interior ditches, made poor defensive works and therefore must have served a ceremonial rather than domestic purpose. Thirty years later, Squier and Davis (1848) revisited the idea of the Hopewell earthworks as defensive constructions. For example, they envisioned the Hopewell

Mound Group in Ross County as a fortified town, with religious and domestic areas enclosed by its protective embankments and ditches. In this scenario Hopewell earthworks acted as both habitation and ceremonial center. Lewis Henry Morgan (1881) carried this line of thought to an extreme in his treatise on Native American houses and domestic life. Morgan portrayed the embankments of Hopewell earthworks as building platforms for immense long houses. This interpretation of earthwork function is typified by his reconstruction of life at the High Bank Works, where he envisioned great long houses sitting atop the earthwork’s octagonal embankment walls (Morgan 1881).

5 At the turn of the twentieth century Gerard Fowke (1902) explored the wide

ranging, functional explanations that existed for the earthen enclosures of Ohio. From defensive works or game preserves to dwelling foundations, Fowke carefully reviewed every explanation. He discounted each explanation in turn based on the known evidence

at the time. The only way to explain the vast and complex earthworks of the Ohio region,

he advised, was to conduct more investigations “of the embankments, ditches, and

included areas, to a depth at or below any level which was disturbed by the Mound

Builders” (Fowke 1902:155-158). Many major Ohio earthwork complexes were

excavated, and re-excavated, over the next forty years.

In addition to intensifying their examination of earthwork sites, early twentieth

century archaeologists broadened their research to include the areas surrounding the

mounds and earthworks. In their reports on excavations at Hopewell Mound Group, both

Warren K. Moorehead (1922) and Henry C. Shetrone (1926) note the presence of debris

within the earthworks that they considered to be unrelated to the mounds. For these two

researchers, the presence of such debris inside the earthworks suggested the existence of

villages or towns. Neither Moorehead nor Shetrone described these artifact deposits

beyond noting their location. While Moorehead (1922) thought the earthworks served as

village and burial sites for the Hopewell, Shetrone was uncertain of the significance of

the non-mound debris at Hopewell Mound Group (Shetrone 1926). More recently, much

of this non-mound-related debris at the Hopewell Mound Group site has been shown to

be non-domestic (or non-Hopewell) in origin (Pederson et al. 2001).

It was not until the early 1950s that Ohio archaeologists examined the possibility

that the Hopewell people lived in places other than the ceremonial centers (e.g., Morgan

6 1952). A lack of evidence for Hopewell habitation sites outside the earthworks, however, meant that researchers had to rely upon debris from in between the mounds at earthwork sites to reconstruct Ohio Hopewell domestic life (e.g., Griffin 1952a). The extensive deposits of debris at inside the North Fort and outside to the northeast, south of the parallel walls, during the 1940s and 1950s was thought to reveal the presence of villages inside and next to earthworks (Morgan 1946).

In the early 1960s a new era of Hopewell settlement studies in Ross County was initiated when Olaf Prufer examined the possibility that Hopewell habitation extended well outside the earthwork complexes. During the Scioto Valley Survey, Prufer and his crew identified in their survey area approximately twenty concentrations of Hopewell debris far away from the earthworks and burial mounds (Blank 1965; Prufer 1965, 1967).

The first well-documented Hopewell habitation, the McGraw site, was excavated during this survey (Prufer 1965). Prufer concluded that the Hopewell must have occupied small settlements in the hinterlands of their “vacant” earthworks, an idea now referred to as the

Hamlet Hypothesis, which lies at the core of Dancey and Pacheco’s Dispersed Sedentary

Community model (Dancey and Pacheco 1997; Pacheco 1988, 1993). Thus, in the early to mid-1960s archaeologists studying Hopewell habitation began to shift their focus away from earthwork complexes.

Despite Prufer’s success at finding Hopewell settlements during his Scioto Valley

Survey, not until the mid-to-late 1980s did other archaeologists begin to intensively search for the remains of Hopewell settlements (e.g., Dancey 1991; Genheimer 1984;

Kozarek 1987; Pacheco 1988, 1993). In a recent volume on Hopewell community structure, Dancey and Pacheco (1997) formulate their Dispersed Sedentary Community

7 model of Hopewell community organization using over ninety documented Hopewell

settlements. Following Prufer (1965), this model proposes that the Hopewell lived in small, sedentary settlements on the terraces of main stream valleys and at the convergence of intermittent streams in the uplands surrounding the earthwork sites. These settlements, though occupied year-round, varied greatly in the number of consecutive years they were inhabited. Wymer (1997) has hypothesized that the need to shift garden locations to insure adequate yields was a major determinant of the duration of settlement occupation. Dancey and Pacheco (1997) also suggest that varying household longevity caused differences in settlement occupation duration. Earthworks were the focal point of each community’s mortuary and socio-ceremonial life. This model suggests that the archaeological signatures of Hopewell settlements should be small debris concentrations that at each settlement contain similar tool assemblages (Pacheco 1988; B. Smith 1992).

Numerous Hopewell settlements consisting of small debris concentrations and

consistent tool assemblages have been found in the region. A sample of 29 hamlets from

across Ohio (Dancey and Pacheco 1997:24-28) range in area from 0.13 to 1.3 hectares

and average 0.45 hectares, supporting the hypothesis that Hopewell settlements are

relatively small in size. While many of the hamlets are located in floodplain terrace

settings, they also occur in floodplains, bluff top edges, and upland ridges.

Around A.D. 400, the small settlements of dispersed Hopewell communities

disappeared and their associated burial and ceremonial facilities were abandoned.

Numerous hypotheses have been proposed to explain the decline of Hopewell mortuary

and ceremonial behavior and the reorganization of Hopewell communities into villages.

None of the hypotheses have withstood rigorous scientific testing.

8 Data of the type needed to study the processes that produced the re-organization

of dispersed household communities as nucleated household communities are scarce in

the Middle Ohio Valley region. Most of the known settlements are located in core

Hopewell areas and date to either the Middle Woodland or the early Late Woodland

rather than to the transitional period. Few settlements are known from areas peripheral to

core Hopewell centers inhabited during the transitional period (late Middle Woodland

period, ca. A.D. 200-500). To more fully understand how and why the transition in

community organization occurred, archaeologists need to study more habitation sites

dating to this time period—especially habitations from both the core (e.g., Ross County

and the Middle Valley in general) and peripheral (e.g., the Upper Hocking

Valley and the Upper Great Miami Valley) Hopewell regions.

Early Late Woodland Period (A.D.400-800) Settlement

In 1952, in a short, synthetic article on the “Late Prehistory of the Middle Ohio

Valley,” James B. Griffin proposed a new culture historical taxon he called Newtown

(Griffin 1952a). Griffin’s Newtown focus was based largely on the work of the

Cincinnati Museum of Natural History during the late 1940s (Oehler 1950, 1973; Riggs

1986, 1998) and excavation data from a number of stone mounds (e.g., Keller 1960). His work is one of the earliest efforts to define early Late Woodland cultural and

archaeological taxonomic units in the Middle Ohio Valley.

Since the 1950s, numerous early Late Woodland sites throughout the region have

been explored. There are many similarities and differences in the cultural historical

records of Middle Woodland and early Late Woodland societies. The most distinctive of

9 these differences is community organization. The existing data indicate a change from small, dispersed Middle Woodland habitation sites to large, nucleated early Late

Woodland villages. This change occurred between A.D. 200 and A.D. 500 and in most areas corresponded to the decline of the Hopewell phenomenon (Dancey 1992). Why and how this process of community reorganization occurred cannot be determined because there is a lack of late Middle Woodland period settlement data.

Table 1.2 lists information from 13 chronometrically dated early Late Woodland period village sites from all across the Middle Ohio Valley. The Strait site, which dates to the third century A. D., is included for comparison. While 13 villages are unlikely to be a statistically representative sample of all early Late Woodland period villages, they do provide a range of the typical characteristics of early village location, site structure, and artifact assemblage content.

Early Late Woodland villages differ from Middle Woodland habitation sites in several respects. First, the former are significantly larger than the latter. Using the examples listed in Table 1.2, early Late Woodland villages range in size from 0.3 to 6 hectares, with an average of 1.55 hectares (if the outlier is excluded), and are more than four times larger than the average size of the Middle Woodland settlements cited by Dancey and Pacheco 1997. Early Late Woodland villages seem to have been established in carefully chosen locations, unlike Middle Woodland settlements. Along the

Ohio River, early Late Woodland villages occur almost entirely on terraces in the floodplains, while in other river valleys (e.g., Scioto Valley) they are frequently located on bluff top edges.

10

Site Location Sizea Structure Artifacts Reference Bentley Terrace edge -Intense midden -Angled shoulder Henderson and (15Gp15) floodplain 1.2 ceramics Pollack 1985 - Childers Floodplain 0.5- -Embankment -Lowe Cluster points Maslowski and (46Ms121) estim -Compact -No bladelets Dawson 1980; Shott ate -Intense midden 1990 Froman Floodplain, -Multinodal -Lowe Cluster Points Ross-Stallings and (15Cl51) Terrace c. 1.1 -Ring midden? -Newtown Pottery Stallings 1997 -Bladelets Hansen Floodplain, -Multinodal -Lowe Cluster points Ahler 1988 (15Gp14) Terrace edge -Compact -Angled shoulder 6 ceramics -Hopewell pottery -Bladelets Leonard Floodplain, -Intense midden -Lowe Cluster Points Reidhead and Limp Hagg First terrace -Angled shoulder 1974 2.43 (12D19) edge ceramics -Bladelets Parkline Floodplain, -Multinodal -Not dominated by Niquette and (46Pu99) Terrace ? Lowe Cluster points Hughes 1991 -No bladelets Philo II- Floodplain, -Ring midden? -Lowe Cluster points Carskadden and Muskingum Terrace edge 0.3 -Multinodal Morton 1996 Co., OH Pyles Bluff edge -Ring midden -Angled shoulder Railey 1984 (15Ms28) c. 1.1 ceramics -NO bladelets Rogers Site Bluff edge -Multinodal -Lowe Cluster points Kreinbrink 1992 Complex -Compact -Angled shoulder 0.5-2 (15Be33-35) ceramics -Bladelets Sand Ridge Floodplain -Intense midden -Angled shoulder Riggs 1986 ? (33Ha17) ceramics Scioto Trail/ Bluff edge -Embankment -Angled shoulder Baby and Shaffer Zencor 2.2 around village ceramics 1957; Baby 1971; (33Fr8) Otto 1983 Turpin Floodplain -Intense midden -Lowe Cluster Points Oehler 1950,1973; (33Ha28) -Angled shoulder Riggs 1986, 1998 ? ceramics -Effigy pipes Water Plant Bluff edge -Embankment -Lowe Cluster points Dancey 1988 (33Fr155) around village -Angled shoulder 3.15 -Multinodal, ceramics compact Strait Escarpment -NO -Lowe Cluster points Burks and Dancey (33Fa156-8) edge embankment -Bladelets 1998, 1999a, 1999b 5-7 -Intense midden -only 1 angled shoulder -Multinodal pottery sherd a - Site size measured in hectares

Table 1.2: Chronometrically dated early Late Woodland period villages, with a summary of important characteristics.

11 Three villages are located along abrupt edges (Table 1.2: Childers, Scioto

Trail/Zencor, and Water Plant) and are circumscribed by a ditch and associated embankment. Eight examples of barricaded, nucleated settlements are known in the

Middle Ohio Valley (Fig. B.2), five of which have been the focus of major fieldwork

(Childers [Shott 1990], Harness 28 [Seeman and Dancey 2000], Scioto Trail/Zencor

[Baby and Shaffer 1957; Baby 1971; Otto 1983], Swinehart [Schweikart 2002], and

Water Plant [Dancey 1988; Dancey et al. 1987]). The remaining three (Ety [Jerrel

Anderson, personal communication 2002], Thomas Earthwork [Carskadden and Morton

1996], and Krebbs [Carskadden and Morton 1996]) are not well documented by excavation or surface survey. Figure B.3 is a photo of the intact pairing of ditch and embankment at the Ety site in Fairfield County, Ohio. The co-occurrence of ditches with embankments in bluff top edge locations suggests sites that may have been built for defensive purposes (Seeman and Dancey 2000).

Early Late Woodland villages are also distinguishable from Middle Woodland settlements by the amount of debris generated during the occupations. In all cases, early

Late Woodland villages are comprised of dense middens with multiple peaks, or nodes, of artifact density (Fuller 1986). Where archaeologists have excavated extensively, they have shown that the multiple peaks in artifact density represent, multiple, contemporaneous households. In other words, early Late Woodland villages harbored larger populations than Hopewell settlements.

A final suite of distinguishing characteristics for the early Late Woodland period can be found in the artifact assemblages of villages. The temporally diagnostic artifact assemblages of the 13 villages in Table 1.2 are dominated by Lowe Cluster (Justice 1987)

12 projectile points and angled-shoulder Newtown-like pottery types (McMichael 1984).

Lowe Cluster projectile points are common across the Midwest and appear during the latter half of the Middle Woodland period. Newtown pottery was first defined for early

Late Woodland assemblages in the Cincinnati area, but assemblages from northeastern

Kentucky and central Ohio share many its attributes. For example, angled-shoulder vessels are considered to be highly diagnostic of Newtown assemblages. Exceptions to this trend can be found in villages in the southeastern portion of the region, where the pottery has much in common with contemporary assemblages farther south in West

Virginia (e.g., the Schoolyard site [Railey and Henderson 1986]).

While early Late Woodland artifact assemblages are different than Middle

Woodland assemblages, many early Late Woodland villages have produced at least a few artifacts thought by archaeologists to be diagnostic of the Middle Woodland period. For example, bladelet production, a characteristic Middle Woodland activity, appears in some early Late Woodland assemblages. In the southwest part of the region this practice seems to be confined to villages along the Ohio River, and it appears at potentially early nucleated sites such as Strait and possibly the Troyer site (Converse 1993), both of which are located in central Ohio. Other Middle Woodland artifacts, such as Hopewell pottery and copper objects, have also been found in early Late Woodland contexts. These artifacts are more common in the areas where early villages first appear, suggesting that nucleation first occurred in communities that produced and used distinctive Hopewell artifacts. For example, two Hopewell copper objects, one a small celt, were found at the

Strait site (Gehlbach 1985). Interestingly, the villages in northwestern West Virginia have yet to produce Hopewell artifacts. The presence of Hopewellian artifacts at potentially

13 nucleated (Hopewell?) settlements raises many questions, including why dispersed

Hopewell populations abandoned their immense earthwork complexes and aggregated in villages?

The Hopewell Decline and the Origin of Nucleated Settlements

Explanations concerning the decline of the Hopewell typically ignore the occurrence of late Middle Woodland period community nucleation because far more is known of the former. Archaeologists explain the decline and disappearance in the Eastern

Woodlands of the Hopewell phenomenon through the use of a wide range of single and multivariable causal explanations. Many approaches rely on univariate factors of causal explanation: migration or invasion of a new population (Neumann and Fowler 1952); the introduction or failure of maize agriculture and a concomitant change in social institutions (Griffin 1960; Vickery 1970; Struever and Vickery 1973; Farnsworth 1973;

Hall 1980; Dragoo 1976); the introduction of the bow and arrow and its influence on food acquisition and warfare (Wray and MacNeish 1961; Ford 1974); a local group’s reassertion of control over a dominating, Hopewellian intruder group (Wray and

MacNeish 1961); and cultural fatigue (Griffin 1952b).

In his 1977 dissertation, David Braun rejected all previously proposed hypotheses.

In their place, he suggested that societies in the late Middle Woodland period experienced a progressive change in their social and political systems. Braun’s multivariate approach focuses on the systemic, adaptive interrelationships of demography, subsistence, supra- local exchange, social differentiation, and centralization of prestige. Together, change in these five aspects of late Middle Woodland period society resulted in the co-occurrence

14 of two important trends. First, supra-local integrative mechanisms “involving relatively autonomous groupings” became less important (Braun 1977:326, emphasis in original).

These mechanisms include Hopewell long-distance trade activities and other modes of integration related to the ceremonial center, which are the primary defining

characteristics of Hopewellianism. Second, there was a concomitant “increase in institutional mechanisms of supra-local integration and cooperation that cross-cut local residential distinctions” (Braun 1977:326). Thus, the Middle Woodland period phenomena that integrated Hopewellian societies and were focused at the group level in the corporate-ceremonial sphere, changed to the domestic (household) level and shifted to the residential sphere. This process resulted in the loss of many things that archaeologists consider classically Hopewellian, including elaborate burial ceremonialism and the long- distance trade for or acquisition of exotic, ceremonial goods.

Others suggest that the Hopewell decline resulted from a redirection of energy away from behaviors that limited population growth (e.g., the “waste” behaviors of monumental earthwork construction) and toward the intensification of food production and population nucleation (Dunnell 1989; Dancey 1996). Still others suggest that the

Hopewell decline resulted from an interaction among demographic variables such as population density, birth spacing, and local resource depletion with intergroup conflict

(Tainter 1975; Buikstra 1976).

Many of these explanations of the Hopewell decline identify Middle Woodland ceremonial and mortuary behaviors as an important component—perhaps the most prominent—of culture change at the end of the Middle Woodland period. Few explicitly include discussions of community nucleation, with the exception of Dancey (1996). The

15 reasons for such oversight are partly due to the failing and out-of-date chronological and cultural taxonomies used by archaeologists. The time periods and cultural historical units used in the region, including taxonomic units such as phases, foci, complexes, traditions, horizons, and archaeological cultures, are ill defined and do not reflect important, inter- drainage variability in settlement patterns.

First consider time periods. Following Griffin (1967), the Woodland period is commonly divided into three subperiods: Early Woodland (1000 B.C.-200 B.C.), Middle

Woodland (200 B.C.-A.D. 400), and Late Woodland (A.D.400-A.D. 1000). The boundaries of these temporal units vary across the Eastern Woodlands and even within the Middle Ohio Valley. The emergence of pottery is usually cited as marking the beginning of the Early Woodland period, though radiocarbon dates place pottery in the area at 1500 B.C., or earlier (see Table 22.1 in Seeman 1986:566; Keener and Pecora

2003). Another important component of the Early Woodland period is mound building.

Mounds are not common until about 500 B.C. in the Middle Ohio Valley (Seeman 1986).

The end of the Early Woodland saw a significant change in burial ceremonialism. At about 200 B.C., mounds were decreasingly used as cemeteries in which burials were added through vertical accretion (Clay 1998), as in the Early Woodland Cresap Mound found along the Ohio River in West Virginia (Dragoo 1963).

In the Middle Woodland period, beginning between 200 B.C. and A.D. 1, the dead were processed and finally laid to rest on or near the floors of mortuary ceremonial buildings, like those found at Mound City in south central Ohio (Mills 1922). Middle

Woodland mounds were constructed over destroyed or dismantled mortuary ceremonial buildings (Brown 1979; Greber 1983), and once in place they no longer received

16 additional burials. Along with this change in mortuary ceremonialism, some areas (e.g.,

Ross County, Ohio) experienced a florescence of earthwork construction. Mortuary

ceremonialism is the primary means for defining temporal taxonomic units (i.e., time

periods) in central Ohio. This reflects an over-emphasis on the excavation of mounds and

earthworks during the last 150 years.

In this chronological taxonomy, the same criteria used to subdivide time are also

used to define socio-cultural taxa such as archaeological cultures, cultural complexes, or cultural traditions. Thus, the Adena concept is assigned to the end of the Early Woodland period, the Hopewell concept goes with the Middle Woodland period, and the Newtown concept, especially in southern Ohio, is aligned with the early Late Woodland. Using one set of cultural phenomena to (a) mark boundaries in a chronological framework and (b) construct socio-cultural taxa is problematic for two reasons. First, many researchers use the taxonomic terms inter-changeably. For example, in many parts of the Middle Ohio

Valley the term Hopewell has become synonymous with Middle Woodland period. Some researchers have even temporarily adopted socio-cultural taxonomic terms like Adena and Newtown for use as “temporal subdivisions” (e.g., Railey 1991:60), which is similar to a phase approach. Likewise, since no socio-cultural taxa have been proposed in central

Ohio for the early Late Woodland, some researchers are forced to use the term “early

Late Woodland” in the sense of a culture group, as they might Adena or Hopewell

(Carskadden and Morton 1996).

The second major problem with using the same criteria to denote chronological

and socio-cultural taxa involves the timing of important cultural changes. Many trends in

Woodland period cultural change occurred at different rates with variable starting and

17 ending points across the Middle Ohio Valley. For example, while some would end both

Adena and the Early Woodland period at A.D. 1 (Clay 1992; Seeman 1986), Adena

mortuary ceremonialism continues to at least A.D. 200 in parts of the Muskingum

(Carskadden and Morton 1996) and Hocking Valleys (Abrams 1992a). Similarly, community nucleation is a phenomenon typically associated with the early Late

Woodland period. However, in some areas of the Middle Ohio Valley (e.g., in the Upper

Big Miami River Valley and in the Strait site area as is argued in this dissertation) it

occurs during the Middle Woodland period. Clearly, many important cultural changes

formerly used to define time period boundaries are now known to crosscut those boundaries. The need for more flexible and region specific chronological and socio- cultural taxonomies is plain. In the study of community nucleation, the inconsistent use of taxa has made research very difficult across large areas, such as the Middle Ohio

Valley. Important changes in settlement from A.D. 200-500 have been labeled as belonging to each of the main socio-cultural taxa (Adena, Hopewell, and Newtown) and recorded as occurring during each of the three time periods (Early, Middle, and Late

Woodland).

Despite these taxonomic problems, a few researchers have attempted to discuss the decline of the Hopewell phenomenon as a component of the nucleation of dispersed households into villages. Using a theoretical framework anchored in Darwinian evolutionary theory, Dancey (1996) believes Woodland period community aggregation occurred synchronically with the end of Hopewellianism. His scheme, rooted in the work of Fuller (1986), looks to functional differences between late Middle Woodland dispersed communities and early Late Woodland nucleated communities and finds that the latter

18 may have practiced a more intensified strategy of food production (Wymer 1987a, 1993).

Others identify changes in subsistence strategy as an impetus for population nucleation

(Leonard and Reed 1993).

The evidence for subsistence specialization in the early Late Woodland economies of the Middle Ohio Valley is not vast, but it does allow for some generalizations. For example, the current evidence suggests intensive maize agriculture did not play a major role in the process of nucleation (Wymer 1987a). Wymer (1987a, b,

1992) has consistently highlighted the lack of difference between Middle and early Late

Woodland subsistence strategies. Nevertheless, botanical remains from both time periods suggest that early Late Woodland groups were intensifying and diversifying their subsistence strategy (Wymer 1992:67). Therefore, change in Middle-Late Woodland period community organization may have been related to an intensification of horticultural practices.

John Fuller (1986) has also used factors of subsistence economy in the explanation of community nucleation in the Ohio Valley. His work examines the adoption of maize agriculture and its influence on community organization in northwestern West Virginia in the Late Woodland-Late Prehistoric period. Fuller proposes two models of the process of change to nucleated communities: the Growth

Model and the Nucleation Model. The Growth Model depicts nucleation as a gradual process of household-scale population growth made possible by gradual increases in the amount of resource extraction per unit area (Fuller 1986:190). Conversely, the Nucleation

Model states that dispersed households rapidly congregated into nucleated settlements with the introduction of an abrupt and large increase in energy flow from the

19 environment-corn agriculture. Fuller concludes that the archaeological record of

northwest West Virginia most closely reflected the Nucleation Model.

Other potential explanations of community nucleation have been proposed.

Dancey (1992) posits that early Late Woodland communities may have become nucleated

to protect resources from neighboring groups experiencing population growth. In this

scenario, the early, nucleated communities lived on the periphery of areas experiencing

resource stress from population growth. Living in villages for defensive purposes

provided nucleated communities with other advantages, including the sharing of food,

labor, and seeds. This system of subsistence and settlement, which eventually replaced

the failing system of those groups engaged in Hopewellian activities, ultimately spread to the core Hopewellian regions such as the Scioto River Valley.

Summary

In summary, knowledge of Middle and Late Woodland period communities has greatly increased since the time of Prufer’s Scioto Valley Survey in the 1960s and

Griffin’s first proposal of the Newtown focus in the 1950s. However, because of limitations in the scope of this archaeology, archaeologist’s understanding of the organization of households as communities and the change in this organization through time has only reached the point of general modeling. A recent volume edited by Dancey and Pacheco (1997) finally tested Prufer’s 1965 hypothesis of Middle Woodland community organization. The research from this volume convincingly supports a community model of dispersed hamlets during the Middle Woodland. Furthermore,

Pacheco’s (1996) presentation of a potential community in the Jonathan Creek area of

20 Perry County shows what might emerge from an intensive survey of an entire drainage.

Still needed, however, are examples of household level data from early, nucleated settlements.

The problem of Middle-Late Woodland period community re-organization suffers from a lack of appropriate data for certain scales of analysis. While numerous individual sites have been studied few actual communities are known. Most researchers assume the existence of communities. However, like households, communities are social units that the archaeologist must define based on empirical data (Yaeger and Canuto 2000).

Defining an Archaeological Unit of Study: The Household Cluster

Many researchers recognize that the household is the primary unit of settlement during the Middle-Late Woodland period in the Middle Ohio Valley. While formal definitions of such concepts as household, hamlet, village, and community have been provided in some of the Hopewell literature (e.g., Fischer 1974; Fuller 1986; Pacheco

1988, 1993), no researchers have embraced an approach that fully utilizes the tenets of household archaeology or household-scale research (e.g., Allison 1999; Ashmore and

Wilk 1988; Hirth 1993a; Wilk and Rathje 1982; Netting et al. 1984). Thus, questions regarding the nature of the physical (archaeological) manifestation of Middle Woodland period households, such as how they vary across space and time and how they compare to households in the early Late Woodland period, have yet to be fully explored. This lack of household scale research is partly due to the prolonged plowing at most Middle-Late

Woodland period settlements, which damages or destroys fragile artifacts (e.g., bone and

21 pottery) and shallow household facilities (e.g., surface hearths and secondary refuse dumps). Very few intact examples of household remains are known in the region.

In the last 30 years, studies of site formation processes at the household level have greatly advanced based on the work of ethnoarchaeologists in many regions of the world

(e.g., David 1981, Deal 1998; DeBoer and Lathrap 1979; Gould 1981; Hayden and

Cannon 1983, Kent 1999). Many of these ethnoarchaeological studies show that in household contexts refuse disposal behaviors are largely responsible for determining the deposition of artifacts. Furthermore, the ethnoarchaeological data suggest that patterns of secondary refuse disposal are very consistent from one society to another.

In this dissertation I compare the artifact patterns found at the Strait site to ethnographically derived patterns of secondary refuse disposal in an attempt to understand the Strait site artifact patterning. The use of ethnoarchaeological data to develop models of expected household composition and morphology is one important technique for understanding artifact patterning at Middle-Late Woodland period settlements.

Approach of the Present Study

This dissertation is divided into eight chapters. Chapter 2 provides a brief overview of the household archaeology approach. Then, using existing data from select

Middle-Late Woodland period settlements and general principles of secondary refuse disposal derived from select ethnoarchaeological studies, I develop a model of expected household cluster structure for use as a comparative device in interpreting the distribution

22 of artifacts at the Strait site. This model assumes that refuse disposal behaviors are largely responsible for the patterns of artifacts found in household areas at settlements.

Chapter 3 introduces the natural setting and history of research surrounding the

Strait site, a late Middle Woodland period (A.D. 200-300) archaeological deposit that

likely represents an early nucleated settlement. In Chapter 4 the field methods used in

studying the Strait site are defined. Chapter 5 provides an explanation of the analysis

methods used to study the Strait artifacts, and it presents a basic discussion of the range

of artifacts found during this project. The chronological indicators of the Strait site are

discussed in Chapter 6, where it is shown, based on the existing evidence, that the

archaeological remains of the Strait site were deposited during a single occupation

episode.

In Chapter 7 the results of the Strait site fieldwork are compared to the household

model developed in Chapter 2 through a detailed analysis of the spatial distribution of

artifact diversity, size, density, and function. Based on these four artifact attributes,

twenty artifact clusters are defined. Using criteria established by the working household

model, these 20 artifact clusters are hypothesized to be the remains of four to five

household clusters. Geophysical survey and excavations in two of these possible

household clusters confirm the presence of structures and other associated household

facilities, supporting the hypothesized presence of household remains.

After summarizing my research at the Strait site in the beginning of Chapter 8, I

integrate my findings with a model of Middle-Late Woodland period community pattern

change for central and southern Ohio. The results of the Strait site work support Dancey’s

(1992) suggestion that household nucleation began in the third century A.D. in areas

23 peripheral to core Hopewell communities still composed of dispersed households.

Methodological implications of my research are also presented in Chapter 8. They suggest that the household and its many components (e.g., structures, activity areas, and refuse disposal zones) are a useful and important unit of analysis in the study of Middle-

Late Woodland period settlement nucleation.

24

CHAPTER 2

MIDDLE-LATE WOODLAND PERIOD HOUSEHOLDS IN THE MIDDLE OHIO VALLEY: MODELING HOUSEHOLD CLUSTER CONTENT AND FORM

The Household Archaeology Approach

Households are a nearly universal social phenomenon in human societies (Wilk

1997). Households are made up of and defined by groups of people and their activities.

The nature of these interactions and the degree to which individuals participate in household activities varies. In some societies households continuously occupy one locus of contiguous space while in others they are spread out across multiple, sometimes discontinuous, loci on a permanent or cyclical basis. Because households are largely behavioral, or social, units of study, archaeologists cannot practice a ‘household archaeology’ per se (Ashmore and Wilk 1988). A similar problem besets ethnographic studies of households (e.g., Blanton 1994). In archaeological contexts households must be defined based on the study of the spatial patterns of settlement (Alexander 1999). As such, “the household is an analytical unit that can be defined empirically in archaeological samples only after protracted study” (Ashmore and Wilk 1988:6). To study households, archaeologists must be able to identify their physical remains in the archaeological record.

25 By definition, archaeological sites represent abandoned places of past occupation.

The archaeological remains of a household represent the sum total of a household’s growth and development while located in one place. It follows that when working with household remains archaeologists are frequently studying the conflated signature of a series of households, or household series as described by Smith (1992) and Hirth

(1993a). At hunter-gatherer camps occupied for several months or less, a household series approximates a snapshot in time of the household, though evidence of many kinds of activities performed at other residence locales will be missing (because short occupation duration is equivalent to small sample size). At longer-term settlements (years to decades) the archaeological remains of the household are more inclusive (i.e., a better sample of all household activities are present), but the household represented is one that has potentially experienced many different forms as part of its developmental cycle

(Fortes 1958). Household composition and economy vary as the household matures from its initial formation (e.g., a newly-wed couple), through the growth and maturation of its members (e.g., rearing of children), to its potential dissolution when the founding members die (e.g., the children have grown up and moved away). The long-term build-up of a household’s archaeological remains must be taken into account when comparing archaeological deposits with household cluster models derived from ethnographic data.

Household Archaeology: A Brief History

At issue in any discussion of household study are concepts such as family, co- residence, family life cycle, and household cluster (Hirth 1993a). For archaeologists, the challenge of studying households lies in defining archaeological units of analysis that can

26 be used to detect the remains of these fluid cultural (i.e., behavioral) entities. A brief

review of the last 40 years of household archaeology literature shows how archaeologist’s

thinking on households has come to recognize the importance of secondary refuse

disposal patterns are a source of information about households.

The history of anthropological research at the household level of social

organization stretches back into the nineteenth century to the early musings of

unilinealists and the origin of Marxism (Netting et al. 1984). It was not until the late

1950s that American archaeologists seriously thought about the household as a worthy

unit of analysis. This early work by archaeologists refined household concepts and

terminology. For example, Chang disembedded the household from the rest of the

community in Neolithic societies of the New World (1958). His goal was to identify

organizational variability in different kinds of “neolithic” social groups (e.g., households,

villages, and communities). Chang assumed there is a link between the social and architectural aspects of the household. Thus, he was an advocate for using household architectural features, such as dwellings, as the primary archaeological unit for studying

household composition and its change through time. He suggested that the “kitchen or fireplace is the most obvious index of a household” (Chang 1958:302). In the 1950s the importance of refuse disposal patterns were not yet recognized.

In an early review article, Bender (1967) summarized current thoughts on the social aspect of the household. He refuted the idea that families inhabited houses. Instead, he emphasized that the household as a social unit could only be characterized as a unit of co-residence. Furthermore, Bender suggested that co-resident groups collectively participated in the daily activities necessary to sustain life, including food preparation and

27 child rearing. Thus, Bender defined the household as a co-resident social group composed

of individuals articulated as a “task-oriented residence unit” (Netting et al. 1984:xx). This

social definition of the household lacks concrete utility for archaeologists. It does not

specify the material representation of co-residence, or what Wilk and Rathje (1982:620)

refer to as the dwelling unit.

Continued work on the household concept has refined archaeologist’s

understanding of the “tasks” of a task-oriented residential unit (i.e., household) to those

involved in “production, distribution, transmission, reproduction, and co-residence”

(Wilk and Netting 1984:5). How this behavioral definition of the household translates

into observable variability in an archaeological context is the focus of current approaches

to household archaeology. Undoubtedly, these tasks would create different archaeological

records depending on many factors, including the natural environment and the density of

settlement (Binford 1983, 1990). Since economic activities are frequently more visible in

the archaeological record than social or ideological, Hammel’s (1980:251) definition of

households as “the smallest social grouping with the maximum corporate function” may

be the most practical (but not the only) household concept for archaeologists. Household

economic activities, such as food preparation and the production of tools and goods for

use and distribution, tend produce large amounts of refuse within the household area that

archaeologists can study.

Because the architectural facilities of the household serve as more than simply a

place to reside, study of household architecture must include facilities other than the

dwelling, or house. The range of facilities that make up the architectural remains of the household vary depending on the household’s means of production and social

28 composition. Winter (1976) has proposed the phrase “household cluster” to include all architectural facilities associated with the household at any point in time. The kinds and frequency of facilities a household constructs and uses are finite but variable. Each has a different use-life, resulting in a differential accumulation of the facilities through time.

Many of these facilities (e.g., formal refuse dumps) consistently appear in household clusters the world over, which makes ethnographically derived models of household cluster form and function useful tools for identifying and studying household cluster variability.

The archaeologically defined household cluster should be considered a minimum

archaeological expression of the household. It may be beyond the ability of

archaeologists to draw boundaries around all the facilities of one particular household in

a settlement. Furthermore, individuals undoubtedly participated in activities outside of

their own household space. For example, the activities of individuals working in

community activity areas and depositing refuse nearby will not be detected by research

that focuses only on the confines of household space. The use of community space by

households is known to occur in many cultures. Oetelaar (1993), for example, has

identified the use of community space for household activities at a Late Prehistoric period

Mississippian settlement in southern Illinois. Identifying household activities that occur

outside of the confines of household space is one of the more difficult challenges for

household archaeology.

In sum, the household represents a co-resident social group that works together to

meet the nutritive and other daily needs of its members. The facilities used during these

activities frequently occur within the space occupied by the household and are

29 collectively referred to as the household cluster. These facilities range from the dwelling,

where sleeping most commonly occurs, to nearby hearths, cooking pits, and many kinds

of activity areas. In most cases of settlements occupied for at least a few months refuse disposal areas are also a critical component of the household. For example, Kent (1999)

has found that South African hunter-gatherer populations created formal secondary refuse

disposal areas when they intended to occupy a household space for at least 4-6 months.

The failure to sample or even note the presence of refuse disposal areas has greatly

limited the usefulness of many research programs aimed at studying households

(Johnston and Gonlin 1998)

Seeking Households in the Archaeology Record

At their most basic, the household clusters of a sedentary society consist of a

dwelling, above and below ground special-use facilities, activity areas, and refuse

disposal areas. In the following three sections I explore the utility of the household

archaeology approach through a brief review of literature related to three household

components: architectural facilities, activity areas, and refuse disposal. Then I present a

brief summary of Middle-Late Woodland period household cluster examples from the

Middle Ohio Valley. Using the regional data and principles of secondary refuse disposal

derived from ethnographic sources, I produce a working model of a Middle-Late

Woodland period household cluster.

This model is used to produce expectations of what Middle-Late Woodland period households should look like in the archaeological record if (1) they consist of dwellings, activity areas, and refuse disposal zones and (2) household artifact distribution

30 patterns are a function of secondary refuse disposal behaviors. The expectations derived from the model are used as a heuristic tool in Chapter 8 to evaluate the artifact distribution patterns found at the Strait site.

Architectural Facilities of the Household

Architectural facilities represent the built environment of a household cluster.

These physical remains include the dwelling and its construction materials; special

purpose elements such as hearths, ovens, storage pits, and drying racks; and any other

constructed remains such as walls, fences, and prepared activity areas. Archaeologists

typically focus on dwellings to the neglect of other household cluster facilities.

The dwelling as analyzed by post-structuralists is used as an indication of the

basic ideological systems that underlie and pervade culture. For example, based on a

structural analysis of Swahili houses on Africa’s East Coast, Donley-Reid (1990)

suggests the organization of space within the dwelling is the result of, and can work to

reinforce, social relations within and outside the household. The dwelling can also serve

to maintain established associations between a household’s members. Her work

demonstrates the utility of looking beyond the economics of the household for principles

that structure social relations. Research such as Donely-Reid’s, and that of other post-

structuralists (e.g., Hodder 1992), suggests that household cluster composition and layout

is heavily influenced by ideational beliefs; people reaffirm principles of their belief

systems by infusing them into the arrangement and composition of their household space.

Other approaches that study social phenomena in the context of the household

cluster frequently use architectural facilities or associated artifacts as a means to interpret

31 social aspects of the household. In the American Bottom of southern Illinois, Peregrine

(1992) has tracked social change from the Middle Woodland period (150 B.C.-A.D. 300) through the Mississippi period (A.D. 1000-A.D. 1400) through studies of dwelling form and spatial configuration within settlements. Based on these household cluster attributes, his conclusions suggest a shift occurred in the fundamental organization of prehistoric social structure. This is evident in the change from circular, single-set post dwellings arranged in ring-shaped settlements in the Middle Woodland to linear settlements consisting of larger, square dwellings of wall trench construction in the Mississippi period. Peregrine interprets these American Bottom data as evidence that the household broke away from the community through time, becoming the fundamental social and economic unit. A posited transition from kin- to class-based social structure in

Peregrine’s study region corresponds to this shift in household organization.

While Peregrine used the architectural form of dwellings as an indicator of diachronic change in social organization, most research uses household dwelling data to study synchronic social phenomena. For example, it is common to use the form of the dwelling as an indication of social status. Hirth (1993b) looks at overall size of floor plans at Xochicalco, in central Mexico, as one variable in determining the relative status of households. In the Middle Ohio Valley, Nass and Yerkes (1995) also use variability in structure size, among other indicators, to identify the household clusters of possible leaders at the Late Prehistoric period Sunwatch Village site along the Great Miami River.

Early studies also explored floor area as a correlate of household size for calculating community population levels (e.g., Naroll 1962; Cook and Heizer 1968).

Social status has long been recognized as something detectable in household

32 architecture. In the late 1960s Trigger suggested that dwellings reflected wealth and

status variation (1968:58). Ethnoarchaeological studies, such as Kramer’s (1979) study

contemporary villages in western Iran, have confirmed that wealth and status are

correlated, although the relationship is complex. More recently, archaeologists have

looked to the study of energetics to determine social status from dwelling form. This technique assumes that there is a detectable link between energy expended on the

construction of a household cluster and the status of the cluster’s occupants. Both Abrams

(1989) and Carmean (1991) use energetics to assess the social position of Maya

households in Mesoamerica. Their work assumes a positive correlation exists between the

amount of energy invested in dwelling construction and household social status.

Beyond their focus on the energetics of architecture and its interplay with status,

the work of Abrams and Carmean does little to explain differences in the micro-

architecture of households. For example, why are some facilities in one household built

differently than those in others? Are these differences functional, a reflection of raw

material constraints, normatively defined, an indication of wealth or status differences, or

simply historical accidents?

There are at least two ways that researchers have approached architectural

variability between household clusters: (1) using an agent-based perspective in which a

household’s architectural features are thought to be the result of a conscious decision-

making process by the members of the household, and (2) using an evolutionary

perspective in which natural selection affects the frequency of decision-making outcomes

concerning architectural features. In the first approach, used by McGuire and Schiffer

(1983) and Wilk (1990), agent-based studies of household variability emphasize the

33 human decision-making process, and variability in household clusters is regarded as an historically contingent phenomenon. McGuire and Schiffer (1983) suggest that in order to understand variability in household architecture, and perhaps all things humans construct, the end product must be conceptualized as the result of a series of decisions. The key to understand variability in household clusters lies in determining the causal factors underlying the outcome of the agent-made decisions. Thus, McGuire and Schiffer focus their level of analysis down to the individual and the practical “...give and take of social interaction that occurs against a broad backdrop of environmental and social processes”

(1983:297).

Wilk’s (1990) ethnographically based approach to the study of architectural variability follows that of McGuire and Schiffer, where architectural form is the result of an agent-based decision-making process. However, Wilk underscores the intent behind the consequences of the agent’s decision. He presents the dwelling and its associated facilities as a tool for manipulating social relations. Because household architecture is the

result of “constrained choices” made by an agent acting within and reacting to

community-wide social relations, change in architectural form should reflect change in

social relations. His example of the change in Kekchi Maya household architecture,

which he attributes to the introduction of capital flow to the local economy, illustrates

that the influence of social and economic factors can be expressed in architectural design.

Such studies might also work well in Hopewell mortuary-ceremonial settings where

structure size and form vary to a great degree within and between most ceremonial

centers, where social groups make clear decisions about how construct their built

environment.

34 Hargrave (1991) has taken the study of causation behind changes in architectural form a step further. He examines architectural change from the Late Woodland (A.D.

600) to the late Mississippi period (A.D. 1400) in the American Bottom of southern

Illinois to explain changes in architectural design as a measure of an individual’s or household’s interaction with their environment. He considers dwellings and their form as thermodynamic phenomena, the efficiency of which the occupants attempt to maximize.

In using a Darwinian framework, Hargrave assumes that both proximate and ultimate levels of causation (sensu Mayr 1961) are important in considerations of dwelling variability. Proximate influences on the form of dwellings are predominantly constrained by the availability of construction materials. From this perspective, the household as a decision-making entity attempts to maximize thermodynamic efficiency in the face of constraints on raw material availability. Individuals and households more efficient at maximization, sometimes requiring the flexibility to change dwelling form, have the highest cultural and biological fitness. Thus, natural selection acts to ultimately control the ebb and flow of architectural variability through the fitness of the individual or household. Natural selection is not overly particular in the specific form of architectural variability, only that it facilitates greater biological fitness. Therefore,

Hargrave’s work provides for discussions of overall, high-level causation in household cluster variability over time, but it cannot explain the day-to-day minutia of architectural variability.

To summarize, McGuire and Schiffer (1983), Wilk (1990), and Hargrave (1991) envision the decision-making process as a compromise between the need to maximize resource availability and the need to conduct the necessary social and economic processes

35 of production, use, and maintenance. For McGuire and Schiffer and Wilk, this dialectic between maximization and task completion occurs in the mind of the individual.

Hargrave’s analysis adds one more level of causation to the decision making process. He hypothesizes that natural selection shapes certain aspects of architectural design by maximizing the thermal efficiency of dwellings and thus improving the biological fitness of the dwelling occupants.

Few other household facilities have been studied as intensively as dwelling structures. Recently, Kent (1999) has presented a technique for differentiating trash from storage areas based on debris diversity, and Wandsnider (1997) has conducted a thorough study of the impact of pit-hearth cooking on the coevolution of diet and cooking systems.

Refuse disposal facilities, and refuse disposal in general, are discussed in greater detail below.

Studying the Use of Space: Activity Areas

Any consideration of the physical remains of the household must address both the household’s facilities and the space within which they are organized. Numerous researchers have examined the use of space when studying households. Some propose, or assume, that a household’s use of space is a reflection of intrahousehold social structure.

For example, on the north coast of Peru, Bawden (1990) analyzes the organization of household space and its shift through time to demonstrate the stability of kin-based principles in the face of change in larger scale social phenomena. Kent suggests that household space can serve as a measure of the complexity, or segmentation, of a society

36 (1990). She concludes that as a group’s culture becomes more complex, with an

increased number of social institutions and/or social groupings, the use of space within the household cluster will become increasingly segmentated.

Sanders (1990) studies other factors beyond the social to gain insight into what can affect the morphology and use of dwellings. He suggests that most household cluster variability is a factor of seven determinants: “climate, topography, available materials, level of technology, available economic resources, function, and cultural conventions”

(Sanders 1990:44). Some of these determinants, such as climate, topography, function, and cultural conventions, are established at the time of construction and are beyond the control of the household. Level of technology and available economic resources are more variable and can be adjusted by the household. Nevertheless, Sanders also identifies social phenomena—his function and cultural conventions determinants—as primarily responsible for the organization of space use.

Rapoport (1990) suggests that many researchers studying the use of space within household clusters make the implicit assumption that household activities were conducted wholly within the household, and therefore the morphology of the household cluster is a measure of the activities that occurred within its bounds. He cautions against this assumption. Instead of thinking of household activities as independent activities that occur in discrete units of space within the household cluster, Rapoport proposes that household activities are systems of activities that take place in a system of settings. As such, one of the goals of household studies is to determinine if a household’s activities took place wholly within the confines of the household cluster. If this can be established, then the layout of the household cluster as detected archaeologically can be used to infer

37 the organization of household behavior. Horne (1982), for example, has shown that

household activities are not always confined to the immediate household cluster area.

The organization of household space can also be the result of non-economic (or

non-activity focused) social factors external to the household. Archaeologists must

address other problems when using debris and facility organization to interpret household composition and function. Not all behavior is geared toward economically productive activity; other factors can affect household cluster organization. For example, Stephens addresses the interplay between the need for intrasettlement interaction and the effects of overcrowding (1993). She suggests that households mediate this interaction through the manipulation of the regularity, aggregation, and accessibility of household space

(1993:346). A settlement of household clusters with regularly spaced and aggregated facilities promotes easy access to neighboring households. Conversely, scattered facilities with erratic organization inhibit social interaction.

Clearly, as the previous examples illustrate, many factors affect the content and spatial organization of household clusters. Because they can be detected by archaeologists, the architectural remains of households (e.g., dwellings and other kinds of buildings) can be used to study a wide range of household-scale cultural phenomena, including economic production and consumption behaviors, kinship and marriage patterns, wealth and status differences, and the way in which household members conceptualize the cosmos in their minds. However, archaeological investigations of households are incomplete without the study of the household’s refuse and refuse disposal patterns.

38 Refuse Disposal

Archaeology is, necessarily and fundamentally, a study of refuse and refuse disposal patterns (Gould 1981; Schiffer 1972, 1987; Staski and Sutro 1991). Humans manipulate large quantities of material objects and generate lots of waste during their

day-to-day activities. Whether at temporary hunting camps or permanent, year-round

settlements, these objects and waste pile up to varying degrees and can be used to tease

apart intrasite settlement structure and hypothesize about past behaviors, especially as

they relate to refuse disposal. At Woodland period sites in Ohio, few archaeologists have

attempted to document the distribution of bulk waste products at the scale necessary to

demonstrate patterns in intrasite settlement structure (cf. Dancey 1988; Aument and

Gibbs 1991). In part this is due to the extensive fragmentation of much of Ohio’s

archaeological record caused by the intensive disturbances of 150 years of large-scale,

row-crop cultivation. The lack of emphasis placed on household refuse disposal patterns

is also directly related to sampling error as many researchers do not sufficiently sample

plowzone contexts—the very context in which most household debris is contained on

sites in the region (Dancey 1998).

While some objects arrive in the archaeological record through loss at their

location of use, most were intentionally placed (i.e., discarded) in specific areas (Deal

1998). Archaeological deposits form through the accretion and depletion of objects.

Whether on house floors (LaMotta and Schiffer 1999), in activity areas (Kent 1984), or in refuse dumps (Wilson 1994) how and why objects move from a living, or systemic, context (Schiffer 1972) to an archaeological context (non-use) is governed by many factors, including (a) the effort required to move the objects (Hayden and Cannon 1983),

39 (b) potential usefulness of the objects (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Schiffer 1972), (c) hindrance potential of the objects (Hayden and Cannon 1983), (d) settlement occupation duration (Clark 1991; Murray 1980), (e) household cluster size or density of household clusters within a settlement (Burks 1999; Hayden and Cannon 1983; Schiffer 1972), and

(f) site abandonment processes (chapters in Cameron and Tomka 1993; Stevenson 1982).

Refuse is generally discarded in two ways. Objects and debris discarded in their place of use or production reside in a primary context (Schiffer 1972). Archaeologists can use objects found in a primary context to directly consider the spatial arrangement of the systemic behavior (or use-behavior) responsible for the discard of those objects. De facto refuse (Schiffer 1972) includes useful objects that are left behind when a household area or settlement is abandoned. The distribution of de facto refuse is not related to discard behavior but determined by its use in a systemic context. De facto refuse is usually only encountered in archaeological contexts resulting from rapid abandonment with little post- abandonment scavenging (Schiffer 1987). Rapid abandonment can result in the transformation of a living household into an archaeological context with little change to the location of objects. In reality, very little of the material record of occupation is deposited in a primary context or as de facto refuse (Schiffer 1972, 1987). Refuse disposal is a necessary part of life in settlements occupied for almost any length of time

(Deal 1998; Hayden and Cannon 1983; Kent 1999).

While household economic behaviors, for example, determine the depositional patterns of objects in primary context, the depositional patterns of objects found in a secondary context result from intentional refuse disposal. In their ethnoarchaeological research of Maya swidden agriculturalists Hayden and Cannon (1983:126) found that

40 refuse occurs in two classes. Casual refuse includes objects and debris of little value or

hindrance potential, especially ashes, organic refuse, bones, and small inorganic debris.

While organic waste such as bones and food residue is likely to have a high hindrance

value because of the by-products of organic decomposition (i.e., smell and attraction of

unwanted pests), in many Maya households dogs play take away the day’s organic waste,

especially the bones. Dogs can greatly affect the research potential of faunal assemblages

(Kent 1984). They can totally rearrange a household’s faunal remains and selectively

remove certain bones.

Dogs could have played a similar role in shaping the faunal assemblages of

Middle-Late Woodland period settlements. However, Lee and Pederson (1999) found

little evidence of damage by animals in the small sample of faunal materials they studied

from the Strait site and other Middle-Late Woodland settlements. The remains at the

Middle-Late Woodland sites 33Dl27 and the Hansen site show evidence of intense

incineration (Erickson et al. 2000; Brietburg, in Ahler 1988). In the case of 33Dl27,

burning apparently took place after the bone had been dry for some time, suggesting that

the bone was burned as refuse rather than during cooking. Perhaps incinerating organic

refuse was a common practice during the Middle-Late Woodland period. The faunal remains and lithic materials at the Strait site show evidence of intense burning.

Casual refuse is cleaned up and removed primarily through sweeping (Deal 1998;

Hayden and Cannon 1983; Killion 1992). Inside structures, sweeping and day-to-day activities tend to move objects toward low traffic areas, such as along walls or under furniture like sleeping platforms (Deal 1998). These areas also tend to accumulate what

Hayden and Cannon (1983:131) refer to as clutter refuse, or objects that are only

41 potentially recyclable. In many cultures, sweeping occurs on a very regular, if not daily,

basis inside structures (Deal 1998, Hayden and Cannon 1983). Once collected, the waste

from indoor sweeping usually is discarded outside the dwelling, in the toft zone, or the

area that immediately surrounds the structure. In many Maya cases, outdoor sweeping is

performed somewhat less frequently than indoor sweeping, and casual refuse is moved

only off to the side of activity areas. It is not necessarily picked up and dumped into a

formal refuse pile. Because of a low use and hindrance value, the disposal of casual

refuse is typically a chore of least effort in communities with moderate to low population densities (Hayden and Cannon 1983).

Provisional discard is another important pattern of refuse disposal. Objects that present a hindrance to movement or have some degree of re-use potential tend to be placed in provisional discard areas until they are recycled or taken to a formal dumping area (Deal 1998; Hayden and Cannon 1983). Provisional discard zones can be an important place to find objects such as broken tools and raw materials that still have remnant use-life. These special zones of discard tend to be located along the edges of structures (both inside and out) near fences, or in low traffic areas in the household cluster (Deal 1998; DeBoer and Lathrap 1979; Hayden and Cannon 1983). Provisionally

discarded debris is common in toft zones.

As objects move from use to deposition in a refuse area, a wide range of

“attritional processes” can affect the material assemblage, “including (1) further

accidental breakage, (2) weathering, (3) the caprices of children’s play behavior, (4) the

effects of animal activities, and (5) retrieval of select pieces for which a recycling use has

been found” (Hayden and Cannon 1983:131-132). As refuse accumulates in provisional

42 discard zones and it experiences these attritional processes, it may be collected and

moved to a formal refuse dumping location. When and whether the cleaning of

provisional discard areas takes place is determined by the duration of household cluster

occupation and abandonment and the vicissitudes of a household’s ability to endure

living in close quarters with their own trash. A long occupation may require more

cleaning episodes, thus depleting the provisional discard zone. Conversely, long periods

of imminent abandonment will likely result in a build up of objects in toft and provisional discard zones (Deal 1998). If a household moves to a different part of a settlement, or if other households remain nearby, the provisional discard area may be scavenged for

useable materials despite abandonment (Lange and Rydberg 1972). However, total site abandonment may leave provisional discard zones flush with what seem to be useful objects, giving the inaccurate impression that they represent activity areas. Perhaps most importantly, “artifact distributions in sedentary contexts provide the least reliable, most

ambiguous indicators of specific activity areas” (Hayden and Cannon 1983:138).

A third kind of refuse disposal is the use of formal dumps, or what Wilson (1994) refers to as secondary refuse aggregates. Formal dumps contain the widest variety of debris categories, both in terms of size and material. They represent the final, systemic depositional context for refuse and include casual debris from sweepings, objects of potential use or hindrance from provisional discard areas, and highly undesirable debris taken from a use context straight to the dump. For example, certain kinds of organic refuse or dangerous objects, such as lithic debitage, may go straight to the refuse dump, spending little or no time in a provisional context. In the case of Maya groups studied by

Hayden and Cannon (1983), pits in the ground were used very infrequently for formal

43 trash dumping. In fact, trash deposition in pits occurred in household space only when

open pits were opportunistically available. Few pits were dug for depositing trash.

If trash disposal patterns in the Middle Ohio Valley are similar to the ethnographic examples, then pits filled with secondary refuse deposits should be rare.

Furthermore, if pits are rarely used as trash receptacles, then most of the household’s

trash will be found in provisional discard zones along the edges of activity areas and in

formal refuse dumps near the edges of household space, or outside the settlement. The

implications of this for Woodland period research are vastly under-appreciated in the

Middle Ohio Valley. Since most trash was probably deposited on the surface in trash

piles, plowing has probably reworked most secondary refuse deposits in Ohio—

incorporating them into the plowzone. Thus, unless plowzone contexts are intensively

excavated or surface collected to a acquire a representative sample of secondary refuse

dumps, much of the record of household activities is being ignored. While plowing does

produce certain kinds of effects on the spatial patterning of the archaeological record

(e.g., Baker 1978; Clark and Schofield 1991; Dunnell 1988; Lewarch and O’Brien 1981;

Roper 1976), it should not totally destroy broad-scale spatial patterns in settlement-wide,

or even household, contexts. Artifact collecting behaviors, by archaeologists and other

kinds of artifact collecting enthusiasts, probably have a greater impact on spatial

patterning than the effects of plowing since they are less predictable in many ways.

While abandonment and scavenging activities, along with natural formation

processes (Schiffer 1987; Wood and Johnson 1979), may be important factors that

structure the archaeological record in some cases, the longer a settlement is occupied, the

more defined, both spatially and in terms of content, its refuse dumps become (Schiffer

44 1972; Wilson 1994). This principle of refuse dump formation is closely related to occupation duration and abandonment scheduling (Stevenson 1982), and it has been documented across many cultures (Murray 1980; Lange and Rydberg 1972; Kent 1999).

Prior to the scheduling of a settlement’s abandonment, waste and discard objects are regularly moved from high activity and traffic areas (e.g., activity areas) to low activity and traffic areas (e.g., secondary refuse dumps). Which objects get moved to a dump area is determined by an object’s degree of undesirability and hazardousness, a relationship

Gould defines with his Principle of Interference (1981:196-197). Biological waste quickly becomes undesirable and attracts unwanted pests and angular and sharp objects can be hazardous to foot traffic. Once a group is aware that abandonment is imminent, waste deposition patterns change and waste accumulates in areas that formerly were cleared of undesirable and hazardous materials (Schiffer 1987; Stevenson 1982). The archaeologist’s ability to detect settlement structure, then, is related to the duration of settlement occupation and abandonment (Table 2.1). The longer a settlement or structure is occupied, the more energy is expended in constructing and maintaining space

(McGuire and Schiffer 1983; Cameron 1991), which results in the more defined, or structured, use of space.

Some spaces within a settlement are dominated by the accumulation of debris

(e.g., refuse dumps), while others are distinguished by a lack of debris and the presence of specific kinds of objects (e.g., a hide working area-hide scrapers present but hazardous debris [i.e., fire-cracked rock] not present). However, the longer the process of abandonment, the less defined these spaces may become. Although formal refuse dumps

45

Short Occupation Long Occupation activity areas, habitation areas, activity areas, habitation areas, dump areas partially Short Abandonment dump areas clearly differentiated differentiated activity areas and habitation areas activity areas, habitation areas, partially differentiated, dump Long Abandonment dump areas undifferentiated areas clearly differentiated

Table 2.1: General relationship between occupation and abandonment duration and settlement structure.

change little and maintain large amounts of undesirable and hazardous materials during longer-term abandonment, activity areas start to accumulate objects previously moved to refuse dumps. Thus, activity areas tend to become less visible with longer abandonment periods, but refuse dumps change very little (Joyce and Johannessen 1993).

Consequently, the presence of well-defined refuse dumps at a settlement can be considered a sign of relatively long-term site occupation (i.e., sedentism).

Household Clusters: Select Middle-Late Woodland Period Examples

Though documented evidence of Middle-Late Woodland period settlements abounds (Dancey and Pacheco 1997:Table 1.1; Seeman and Dancey 2000), the number of household clusters identified by archaeologists is low. In a recent publication on the importance of surface archaeological data to Woodland period studies, Dancey (1998) mentions that there are fewer than 20 known domestic structures from the Middle

Woodland period in Ohio. I could not find even a dozen in published sources or in the gray literature. This housing shortage, as it has been called (Griffin 1996), is a significant

46 C14 Dates, Site Name Drainage Calibrated Intercepta Reference RCBY BP Twin Mounds Great Miami Hawkins 1986; 1996 -- -- West DECCO-1 Olentangy 1580±50 AD 437, 454, 457, 522, 527 Phagan 1977 1680±45 AD 388 1700±50 AD 344, 370, 379 1710±50 AD 265, 267, 341, 375 Marsh Run Marsh Run/ 1750±70 AD 258, 283, 287, 300, 320 Aument and Gibbs 1991 Scioto 1890±70 AD 91, 98, 126 Smith Little Miami 1890±70 AD 91, 98, 126 Sunderhaus et al. 2001; 1690±70 AD 362, 366, 383 Cowan et al. 2003 Lichliter Wolfe Creek/ Crane and Griffin 1959 1600±125 AD 430 Great Miami 33Dl27 1570±80 AD 442, 448, 468, 482, 530 Erickson et al. 2000 1570±60 AD 442, 448, 468, 482, 530 1550±130 AD 536 1460±60 AD 605, 610, 616 1390±80 AD 656 1380±60 AD 658 1170±110 AD 887 Water Plant Big Walnut 1450±80 AD 620, 634, 636 Dancey 1988 Creek/Scioto 1450±70 AD 620, 634, 636 1330±70 AD 674 1280±102 AD 693, 699, 715, 749, 764 Zencor/Scioto Scioto 1448±50 AD 620, 633, 636 Carr and Hass 1996, Trail 1435±80 AD 639 Table 2.2 1330±60 AD 674 1200±60 AD 782, 790, 815, 842, 857 1170±50 AD 887 950±50 AD 1037, 1143, 1148 a – calibrated using Stuiver et al. 1998

Table 2.2: Chronometric dates from Middle-Late Woodland period habitation sites with architectural household cluster remains

research problem in Middle Woodland period settlement studies. Even fewer archaeologically investigated early Late Woodland period domestic structures are known.

In this section I briefly summarize household cluster information from the

Middle-Late Woodland period settlements shown on the regional map in Figure B.4.

Table 2.2 presents the radiocarbon dates available for eight these sites, with calibrated calendar dates based on Stuiver et al. (1998). This sample of possible household clusters

(n=8) may not be representative of the total population of household clusters that were 47 present during the Middle-Late Woodland period. Nevertheless, these settlements provide a general understanding of the basic elements of Middle-Late Woodland period household clusters, which, at the end of this chapter, I use in developing a model of a typical Middle-Late Woodland period household cluster.

Table 2.3 presents a tabular summary of important, household cluster information from these settlements. While both rectangular and circular structures are present in the region, rectangular seem more prevalent. Plan views of six of these structures are shown in Figure B.5. On average, these structures are about 9.5 meters at their widest, including

64-133 square meters of floor space. The spacing of wall posts is fairly consistent in these structures. Across a sample of 166 interpost measurements from 9 structures the average interpost separation is 110.6 cm with a standard deviation of 38.3 cm. Only posts in the exterior wall line, or in unambiguous lines of posts (e.g., the north-south line of posts at

Marsh Run), of the structures were measured. The high standard deviation for interpost distance may reflect the degree of structure rebuilding at some of the settlements. For example, Lichliter Structure #1 (Fig. B.5) may represent two superimposed structures, or it could be one structure that was extensively rebuilt by strengthening one of its sides with a new wall—leaving the old wall in place.

With such a small sample these generalizations about dwelling form do not completely capture the region’s variability. For example, a number of partial structures, circular and rectangular, were found at site 33Pk153, also known as the Madeira Brown site, near the Piketon earthworks along the Scioto River (Fig. B.4) (Baker 1993; Church and Ericksen 1995). The one, largely intact circular structure has a diameter of about 7 meters. Adding this evidence to the sample lowers the average structure width only

48 ) 2 Household Cluster Interpost Average Distance (cm) Posts Support Int. Int. Thermal Feature Int. Pits Ext. Pits Ext. Thermal Feature Discrete Refuse Disposal Areas Time Period Time Period ShapeDwelling Dwelling Size m area (diam., Twin Mounds ca. 9m 89 rect. X X X ? Westa ca. 81 SD=37.1 sub- 8-10m 96 Marsh Runb X X X X rect. ca. 90 SD=14.4 12 m 106.8 DECCO-1c circ. X X X ? ? ca. 113 SD=26.3 d 8m Middle Woodland Smith rect. 87±8.3 X X X 64 Lichlitere 12-14m 102.2 circ. X X X Structure 1 ca. 133 SD=29.6 Lichlitere sub- -- 128.9 ? ? X ? ? ? Structure 2 rect. SD=26.9 Lichlitere sub- -- 135 ? ? ? ? ? ? Structure 3 rect.? SD=47.3 Transitional Lichlitere sub- -- 175 ? ? ? ? ? ? Structure 4 rect. SD=59.1 na 33Dl27f unk. na na na na X X poss. na Water Plantg unk. na na na na X X X Zencor Area Bh circ.- ca. 9m 119.7 X ? X X X Woodland Early Late Structure 1 rect. ca. 81 SD=38.3 Zencor Area Bh sub- ca. 4-8m X ? X X X Structure 2 rect. 7 S-R ca. 9.5a Total 7 2 7 7 3 5 3 Circ. ca. 74.8 a-Hawkins 1996; b-Aument and Gibbs 1991; c-Phagan 1977, Dancey 1998; d-Sunderhaus et al. 2001; e-Allman 1967; f-Ericksen et al. 2000; g-Dancey et al. 1987, Dancey 1988; h-Ohio Historical Society Archives

Table 2.3: Summary information on possible household clusters from eight Middle-Late Woodland period sites in central and southern Ohio.

slightly to 9.2 meters. Even so, Middle-Late Woodland period structures are fairly large in size with, in general, widely spaced, single set posts. Interestingly, the two smallest structures, the Piketon and the Smith site structures, both are located close to earthworks.

In both cases, these possible household clusters were not used year-round, as suggested

49 by the reporting archaeologists’s interpretations (Church and Ericksen 1995; Sunderhaus

et al. 2001). Rebuilding of structures seems more common at early Late Woodland settlements, as exemplified by Lichliter and Zencor/Scioto Trails.

In addition to structures (probable dwellings), hearths and pit features are a

common component of Middle-Late Woodland household clusters. While few hearths are

known from structure interiors, their absence is probably the result of a systematic bias in

much of the archaeological record caused by plowing. As shallow features, hearths tend

to be removed by plowing. Though the sample of settlements considered here is small,

there does seem to be a trend in the location and number of pit features relative to

structures. In the Middle Woodland period pits are fairly widely spread and distant from

the structural remains, as at Decco and Marsh Run. However, as settlements increase in

size (i.e., increase in the number of household clusters) and then become encircled by

ditches, the number and location of household cluster pit features changes as well. Pits

are more abundant and closer to the structures at early Late Woodland settlements, as at

Water Plant and 33Dl27. This is also the first point at which burials begin to appear

within the settlement and close to the household clusters (e.g., Zencor/Scioto Trail).

Burials occur within or near to household cluster space at other barricaded, early Late

Woodland sites not considered in the sample, such as Childers (Shott 1990).

Debris deposition at the sample settlements is also patterned. At both Middle and

early Late Woodland sites debris concentrations, especially those including debris with a

high hindrance value (e.g., fire-cracked rock), do not occur directly on top of structures

and pit zones. Instead, debris concentrations are separated from structures and pit areas.

Furthermore, multiple classes of debris co-occur in these zones of refuse accumulation

50 (e.g., at Water Plant and Zencor/Scioto Trail). In cases where plowing has not extensively

damaged the artifact assemblage, artifact fragmentation, especially of pottery, can be

used to show traffic patterns across the settlements. High traffic areas, such as inside

structures, show an increased degree of fragmentation while lower traffic areas, such as refuse dumps, have mixed degrees of fragmentation—as at Twin Mounds West (Hawkins

1986).

One final, and important note, is the degree to which recent formation processes

have impacted the sites in this sample. Except for Twin Mounds West and small portions

of the Lichliter site, all of these sites have been highly impacted by up to and over one

hundred years of cultivation. Plowing seems to affect features and artifacts in different

ways at each of the sites. Ground disturbance from plowing has clearly removed the more

shallow features, such as surface hearths and some postholes, from most of these

probable household clusters. It also has a major affect on the kinds of artifacts found in

the plowzone. Despite the presence of large numbers of pottery sherds, and in some cases

bone fragments, in the pit features at nearly every site, pottery and bone are almost

completely absent from plowzone assemblages (e.g., DECCO-1, Lichliter, Smith, Marsh

Run, and 33Dl27). One interesting exception is the Water Plant site. Perhaps the presence

of pottery there in the plowzone signifies how prevalent it used to be in the settlement’s

surface refuse dumps. The significance of modern agriculture on these archaeological resources cannot be stressed enough. In fact, it may account for a great deal of the variability in the presence and absence of many kinds of features and artifact classes.

Despite the damage caused by plowing, controlled testing of the plowzone is also an incredibly powerful tool for identifying site structure patterns, as demonstrated at Marsh

51 Run and Water Plant. Archaeological sampling strategies greatly affect the study of

household cluster morphology and content. In some cases, as at Twin Mounds West and

Lichliter, the excavations were only extended far enough to uncover the edges of the structures. In other cases, adequate artifact samples from the formal refuse dumps were not collected and/or recorded properly (e.g., DECCO-1). This variability in field procedures and overall inattention to the fact that household clusters consist of structures, associated interior and exterior pit features and hearths, activity areas, and refuse dumping zones, must be addressed if studies of household cluster variability are to advance in the region.

Based on the results of this brief summary of possible Middle-Late Woodland period household clusters and the ethnoarchaeological data on refuse disposal patterns presented earlier in the chapter, the next section outlines a model of expected household cluster content and morphology for the Middle-Late Woodland period in the Middle Ohio

Valley. The principles presented in this section are then used to study the unplowed contexts of the Strait site, a late Middle Woodland period settlement in east-central Ohio.

Modeling the Household Cluster

In this section I develop a model of a Middle-Late Woodland period household cluster that is used in Chapter 7 as an heuristic tool for detecting the archaeological remains of households. The model suggests that Middle-Late Woodland period households can be detected using artifact distribution patterns. Based on regularities in refuse disposal observed in ethnoarchaeologically documented hunter-gatherer, horticulturalist, and agricultural households, this model predicts that household artifact

52 distributions are a function of secondary refuse disposal patterns. These disposal patterns regularly produce clusters of refuse that can be identified based on four dimensions of artifact variability: size, density, function, and diversity.

Creating models of household clusters for comparison with archaeological deposits is one way to identify the presence of household remains at archaeological sites.

In this dissertation I assume that household clusters consists of a unit of contiguous space containing the architectural facilities of the household (Winter 1976) and areas of refuse disposal. The archaeologically identified household cluster is both a snapshot in time of the household (e.g., the presence of architectural facilities) and a representation of the household’s activities through time (e.g., the accumulation of secondary refuse deposits).

Thus, two households can appear to be similar in the archaeological record (e.g., they both have dwellings, activity areas, and formal refuse dumps) but have differed in their length of occupation and co-resident, family developmental cycles (see contributions in

Goody 1958 for a discussion of the family life cycle). This dissertation only seeks to identify the presence of households. Comparing and contrasting these households to identify variability in household economy and composition is beyond the scope of this dissertation.

Using Household Cluster Models

In archaeology and many other disciplines, models are commonly used as a source of information for creating hypotheses (Clarke 1978). Models are generally constructed using empirical data gathered and organized according to a particular theoretical framework. In a hypothetico-deductive approach to science, the job of the

53 scientist, using independent data, is to refute hypotheses generated by the model, and in

so doing, test the validity of the model. Models are especially useful to archaeologists as

they provide a coherent framework within which to build expectations from limited

information (i.e., the archaeological record).

In the household archaeology literature, Portnoy (1981) and Killion (1990)

provide two well-known models. Portnoy’s model-based methodology is a commonly

used technique by archaeologists that makes particular assumptions about reality and is used to make predictions that can then be tested. Based on Goffman (1959) and Yellen

(1977), Portnoy presents a model of two basic, socially determined divisions of space: the front region and the back region. The front region is where individuals interact with the community and the back region is a more private area where individuals can separate themselves from the community. This model can overlay any bounded space where individuals of that space interact with one another and/or with others from outside the space. It is appropriate for discussing variability in the use of space in household clusters as well as market places, for example. In Middle-Late Woodland period contexts, the implications of this model for understanding settlement patterning become increasingly important as communities changed from dispersed to nucleated households, as implied in the settlement models of Dancey and Pacheco (1997) and Dancey (1988, 1992, 1998).

The most important aspect of this model for archaeologists is its prediction that the use of space in front regions will differ from the use of space in back regions because of the different social norms of conduct particular to each area. In front regions, community-based, normative behavior is employed and constrains the use of space, while in the back region, different, household-specific principles affect the use of space.

54 Oetelaar (1993) tested this framework of space use with archaeological data from the

Bridges site, a Mississippian settlement in southern Illinois. In this slightly modified

employment of the model, Oetelaar (1993:681) subdivided the settlement into activity

areas, including:

(1) a communal front region reserved for the public activities of the community,

(2) a family front region reserved for domestic tasks and for the entertainment of guests,

(3) a family back region used for the messy and space- consuming activities of the household, and

(4) a communal back region reserved for the messy and space- consuming activities of the community.

This model provided a framework within which to interpret the settlement plan at a long- term Mississippian settlement. It allowed Oetelaar to find organization in the jumble of household cluster facilities and community work areas at a multihousehold settlement, as

well as discover a series of organized, social principles that structured the use of space. In

providing a series of expectations about settlement organization, the use of Portnoy’s

model led to an interpretation of demographic continuity not present in previous interpretations of the Bridges site.

Oetelaar’s research at the Bridges site exemplifies how a generalized model can be used to enrich the information potential of the archaeological record. However, there are other ways to build and use models to study the archaeological remains of households. Killion (1990, 1992) uses an ethnoarchaeological model of the household

55 cluster and its surrounding region, which he terms the House-lot model, to study the

impact of agriculture on the use of space in the Sierra de los Tuxtlas region of Mexico. In

this study, a general model of the morphology of the household cluster is synthesized

from observations of living groups in the study region. The model is then used to study

variability in archaeological household clusters at the nearby site of Matacapan (Killion

1992).

In the humid tropics of Killion’s study region, residential and agricultural areas of

modern household clusters overlap to a greater degree than in other environmental settings around the world. Thus it was necessary to develop expectations of the

archaeological record from models based on households from a similar environmental

context. Because gardens and other vegetated areas are a fundamental component of

households in the humid tropics, Killion uses a model of the household cluster that is spatially more inclusive than the model used by Oetelaar and Portnoy.

Killion divides these garden residences of the humid tropics into four areas: (1)

the structural core, (2) a clear area surrounding the core, (3) an intermediate area on the

edge of the cleared area, and (4) the garden-refuse area (Killion 1992:125). In these

household clusters, the garden and the intermediate areas together comprise nearly 80%

of household cluster space. Furthermore, the range of activities that occur in the garden area and nearby fields highly impacts the use of space in the remaining 20% of the household cluster. For example, Killion notes the size of the clear area around the structural core is positively correlated to the intensity of cultivation (ratio of cropping to fallow time) of local fields (Killion 1992:136). The local fields, in turn, are themselves morphologically impacted by suprahousehold variables such as transportation and

56 communication networks and the history of immigration into the region (Killion

1990:210). Of particular importance to this dissertation is Killion’s discovery that as household density increases in the immediate area of any household, waste management practices become more refined or formalized. As a possible nucleated settlement, where households were more closely spaced than households in dispersed communities, the

Strait site should exhibit indications of formalized refuse disposal behaviors (e.g., discrete refuse disposal areas).

When applied to an archaeological case study, Killion’s House-lot model provides an effective means for cross-comparison of numerous and variable household clusters.

This model also provided the framework for hypothesizing about the agricultural practices of the prehistoric Matacapan residents. Killion’s use of this model not only created a useful frame of reference for comparing disparate household clusters, but it also highlighted the potential impact of suprahousehold phenomena on the household’s use of space. The next step in Killion’s research is to test the hypotheses about prehistoric life generated by the House-lot model.

These two examples of model use demonstrate the utility of a model-based approach to the study of household clusters. Portnoy’s (1981) more generalized and theoretical model brought an enriched interpretation to a seemingly straightforward settlement plan. Killion’s (1990, 1992) ethnographically based model was used to produce expectations of the archaeological record that could be tested using archaeological data. The approach used in this dissertation is similar to that used by

Killion. I develop a model of the expected archaeological signature of a household based

57 on principles of refuse disposal and then I evaluate the archaeological remains at the

Strait site for their consistency with the model.

A Household Cluster Model for Middle-Late Woodland Period Settlements in the Middle Ohio Valley

Artifacts accumulate in household space largely as a function of refuse disposal

behaviors (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Schiffer 1972, 1987). There are five general

locations in which refuse accumulates within household space: (1) on dwelling floors, (2)

in other (outdoor) activity areas, (3) in provisional discard zones, (4) in formal dumps, (5) within discrete features such as pits, and (6) across the settlement as scattered objects.

Figure B.6 shows a hypothetical model of a Middle-Late Woodland period household cluster in the Middle Ohio Valley. The overall positioning of the household cluster components in the model (dwelling, pit features, hearths, activity areas, and refuse discard zones) are based on the brief summary of probable Middle-Late Woodland period households presented earlier. The exact locations of these household cluster components are not important to my research, but the general relationship between the zones of use

(location of the dwelling and activity areas) and the zones of discard (provisional discard

zones and formal refuse dumps) are significant.

Assuming that the archaeological remains of households (i.e., artifacts)

accumulate as a function of refuse disposal behaviors, as outlined by Hayden and Cannon

(1983), Deal (1998), and Schiffer (1972, 1987), the household cluster model in Figure

B.6 suggests that much of the artifact patterning found in low-density horticultural and

58 agricultural settlements, where each household occupies a discrete unit of space, can be explained as a function of the following principles:

(1) Refuse is differentially treated according to size and type (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Deal 1998; Kent 1984).

(2) The longer a space is occupied the more structured it becomes as refuse and high hindrance materials are moved to formalized refuse dumps (Kent 1992; Murray 1980; Schiffer 1972).

(3) Cleaning (e.g., sweeping) leaves behind small objects (DeBoer 1983; Schiffer 1976, 1985)

(4) Special effort is made to remove exceptionally hazardous materials (objects with a high hindrance potential) from high traffic zones, such as activity areas (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Deal 1998; Schiffer 1987).

(5) Some portion of all refuse types is scattered about household space by “attritional” and natural formation processes (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Schiffer 1987).

(6) The use of pits for refuse disposal is rare, opportunistic, and largely based on convenient access (Hayden and Cannon 1983).

(7) Objects found on living floors (i.e., inside dwellings) or in activity areas are probably in a state of provisional discard (Hayden and Cannon 1983; LaMotta and Schiffer 1999; Schiffer 1985).

The effects of these principles on the archaeological remains of households can be examined through a distributional analysis of debris along four dimensions of artifact variability: (1) artifact size, (2) artifact density, (3) artifact function (i.e., debris vs. tool), and (4) artifact diversity. Each of the six kinds of refuse disposal zones can be differentiated based on these dimensions of refuse variability.

As high traffic activity areas, dwelling floors are highly maintained spaces

(LaMotta and Schiffer 1999). As such they experience regular cleaning and removal of

59 objects with high hindrance potential (Hayden and Cannon 1983). Small objects that are difficult to see or that become imbedded in the floor matrix are left behind (DeBoer 1983;

Schiffer 1976, 1987). Sweepings are taken outside the structure and deposited in nearby locations, including opportunistic locations (e.g., open pit features), provisional discard zones (e.g., along the edge of the structure), and/or nearby formal refuse dumps (Hayden and Cannon 1983). Potentially useful objects of a variety of sizes also accumulate in provisional discard zones along walls and under furniture (Deal 1998; Hayden and

Cannon 1983; LaMotta and Schiffer 1999). Outdoor activity areas are also high traffic zones, but the limitations on space availability tend to be relaxed as compared to the space inside dwellings. While sweeping may be fairly regular in outdoor activity areas

(Hayden and Cannon 1983), leaving behind only very small and/or imbedded objects

(DeBoer 1983), the complete removal of sweeping debris from the area is less critical and thus provisional discard arcs of sweepings accumulate around activity areas (DeBoer and

Lathrap 1979). In sum, activity areas in general will contain minimal amounts of debris in a primary context (LaMotta and Schiffer 1999; Schiffer 1972, 1985, 1987). Only the smallest objects have the potential to remain in these areas during the systemic use of the area. During periods of abandonment, activity areas can become cluttered with debris otherwise removed to dumping areas (Stevenson 1982).

Based on these general principles of the maintenance of space, provisional discard zones should include accumulations of a wide variety of objects exhibiting variability in size and material class as dependent on the nature of nearby activities (Deal 1998). These areas also contain objects with potential remnant use-life (Deal 1998; LaMotta and

Schiffer 1999). Thus, as areas of trash disposal, provisional discard zones should contain

60 a wide variety of object sizes but may be potentially limited in the material classes that are present. Periodically, provisional discard zones may be cleaned up and debris removed to formal trash dumping areas (Hayden and Cannon1983; Deal 1998). When objects are moved from provisional discard to formal refuse dump areas the remnant use- life potential of the objects is out-weighed by their degree of visual and/or spatial hindrance (Hayden and Cannon 1983). As low traffic, catchall locations for all kinds of waste, formal refuse dumping zones should contain the greatest diversity of objects

(Wilson 1994) along many dimensions of artifact variability, including size, material type, and function. The location, size, and density of these formal refuse dumps is a factor of household cluster density within the settlement (Schiffer 1972), the duration of household cluster occupation (Schiffer 1972), and the kinds of productive and consumptive activities that take place within the confines of household cluster space.

Household cluster and settlement abandonment and post abandonment behaviors may change the nature of debris deposition patterns in activity areas (Stevenson 1982), but they will likely do little to alter formal refuse dumps.

In the remainder of this dissertation, this model, and the expectations of the archaeological record that accompany it, is put to use at the Strait site in an effort to identify the significance of artifact patterns found their. An intensive shovel testing program is used to sample the distribution of debris across a portion of the settlement.

The artifact distribution patterns revealed by a distributional analysis in Chapter 7 are shown to be consistent with the household model and they are used to predict the locations of household clusters. The results of block excavations and limited geophysical survey support the possible presence and predicted location of the household clusters

61 identified by the distributional analysis of debris. The particular methodology for examining the model’s predicted implications at Strait is presented in detail in Chapter 5.

62

CHAPTER 3

REGIONAL BACKGROUND

Introduction

The Strait site is a late Middle Woodland period settlement that stretches alongside a low escarpment overlooking a small tributary of Little Walnut Creek in northern Fairfield County, Ohio (Fig. B.7). The site is unique among Middle Woodland period sites in the region. Covering approximately five to seven hectares, this loose aggregate of artifact clusters is one of the largest, Middle Woodland period domestic sites known in central Ohio. Thanks to an unplowed area covering nearly one hectare, the site also affords a rare opportunity to address the impacts of long-term, row-crop cultivation on a Middle Woodland archaeological context.

Regional Culture-Historical Context

As described in Chapter 1, most Middle Woodland period sites to date have been found on low terraces in floodplains of major stream valleys (the Marsh Run site is a notable exception [Aument and Gibbs 1991]). In contrast, early Late Woodland villages tend to be located along distinctive topographic edges, such as bluffs, overlooking river floodplains. Despite dating to the Middle Woodland period, the Strait site is located on a distinctive escarpment, the edge of the Allegheny Plateau, along a very small stream and

63 some distance from the nearest major river valley. As such, it sits in an unusual setting for Middle-Late Woodland period settlements, both physiographically and in terms of orthodox expectations.

As shown in Figure B.7, Strait is situated at the headwaters of a creek that drains westward into the Scioto River. Scioto Valley Hopewell remains are well known in the literature because this Scioto valley contains many famous earthwork complexes, such as

Hopewell Mound Group, Mound City Group, and Seip Earthworks. However, the Strait site is much closer to earthworks in other river valleys than it is to those its own drainage.

Figure B.8 is a map showing the location of known earthworks and settlements within about a 25-kilometer radius of Strait. Three distinctive mortuary ceremonial complexes are present within this area.

To the south, the Rock Mill earthworks lie near the headwaters of the Hocking

River Valley in the low hills typical of the Allegheny Plateau’s glaciated margin (Fig.

B.9). First documented in the 1840s by Squier and Davis (1848), the Rock Mill earthen constructions are an unusual outlier as far as earthworks are concerned. Hopewell earthwork complexes are as of yet unknown in the Hocking Valley, though Adena earthen constructions abound. The earthen enclosures of Rock Mill sit atop a hill overlooking a fairly deep gorge and waterfall. The earthwork consists of two circular enclosures with interior ditches, the smaller of which surrounds a mound. Attached to the circles is a square enclosure extending off to the north. At a reported 420 ft across, the square at Rock Mill is a little less than a quarter the size of other square Hopewell enclosures. No documented excavations have ever taken place at Rock Mill and the site has slowly faded away over time.

64 The probable location of this small earthwork complex is fairly easy to find today

based on the Squier and Davis information. A recent visit in the winter of 2003 found the

site area to be covered in housing along the road pictured in the Squier and Davis map

(1848:99). Along the north side of the road the square likely extends into an agricultural field, beyond the encroachment of the houses. While many simply assume this earthwork to be Middle Woodland period in age because of its square enclosure, and thus some kind of Hopewell construction, the two circular earthworks would not be unusual in size or shape if they were found in an Adena context. The only hard evidence for a Hopewell presence in the near vicinity are some artifacts found just across the river in an area

where a deflated mound was probably plowed out. There Murphy (1989:220) reports that

the local landowners found a number of typical, Hopewell platform pipes and ceramic

rim sherd fragments.

Another, even more puzzling mortuary/ceremonial center is the Reservoir Mound and its low encircling embankment (Pacheco 1992). This mound sits on the highest point in the area about 10 kilometers northeast of Strait in southern Licking County (Fig. B.8).

The Reservoir Mound is unusual as mounds go, “a freak, as it were” (Moorehead 1897), for its construction material, stone, and its overall size. At 182 feet in diameter and 50 feet high, as it was recorded to have been prior to the 1830s (Moorehead 1897), this mound is the largest stone mound in Ohio, and probably all of the Middle Ohio Valley.

MacLean reports that 10,000-15,000 wagonloads of stone were taken from the mound for use as riprap in the construction of Buckeye Lake, a large swamp transformed into a reservoir for the Ohio-Erie Canal. MacLean also reports that:

65 Near the circumference of the base of the mound were discovered fifteen or sixteen small earthen mounds and a similar one in the center. These small mounds were opened by some of the neighboring farmers. In one were found human bones with some fluviatile shells, and in the other, two feet below a layer of hard white clay, they came upon a trough covered by small logs, and in it was found a human skeleton, around which appeared the impression of coarse cloth. With the skeleton were found fifteen copper rings and a breastplate or badge. The wood of the trough was in a good state of preservation, the clay over it being impervious to both air and water. The central mound was afterwards opened and found to contain a great many bones but no other relics. (1885:42)

While somewhat vague in its details, this description of the remains beneath the

Reservoir Mound suggests that it dates to the Late Adena or early Hopewell era, which in this region could be anywhere from 200 B.C. to A.D. 200. It also has the dubious

distinction of being the supposed source of the Newark Holy Stones, key components of

a local, mid-nineteenth-century hoax (Lepper 1992).

About twenty kilometers to the north of Strait, past the marshes that are now

Buckeye Lake, the are the largest complex of Hopewell mounds and

embankments in the Middle Ohio Valley (Lepper 1988). First documented by Atwater in

1820, this immense ceremonial center is now almost completely covered by the city of

Newark. Given its size and complexity, the Newark Earthworks undoubtedly played host

for centuries to visitors both local and from afar. Adding in the nearby presence of the

famous Flint Ridge chert quarries, and the Strait site begins to look as if it is ideally

situated to gain access to a wide range of natural and cultural resources related to the

Hopewell. And yet, as discussed in Chapter 5, few distinctly Hopewellian objects have

been found at the Strait site, besides bladelets, a couple questionable decorated pottery

sherds, and two copper objects found during an amateur archaeological project at the site.

66 Despite the presence of a number of high profile archaeological sites, very few

Middle-Late Woodland period settlements have been documented within twenty

kilometers of the Strait site. Two of note are known. The Murphy I (33Li212) site, and

other related occupations, is a complex of small, sequentially occupied Hopewell

settlements located about three kilometers west of the Newark Earthworks (Pacheco

1988, 1992; Dancey 1991, 1992). Murphy I was completely excavated in the 1980s and is

argued to contain the remains of a single Hopewell household (Dancey 1991). Though a distinctive structure pattern could not be identified, discrete activity and debris dumping zones area evident, suggesting a degree of site structure typical of a permanent residence.

As at the Strait site and many other Middle-Late Woodland period sites in the region,

extensive plowing has caused considerable damage to select parts of the Murphy I

assemblage. For example, almost no pottery was found in the plowzone.

The second settlement, the Swinehart Village site (33Fa7), probably represents an

early aggregation of households not unlike the Strait site, but at least a century later in

time and located in a much more defensible position overlooking Little Rush Creek in the

Upper Hocking River Valley (Schweikart 2002). Though not highlighted in Table 1.1,

Swinehart is frequently cited as an example of a barricaded, early Late Woodland period

village (Seeman and Dancey 2000). Low embankments follow the edge of the landform

on which the site rests, with steep slopes bordering it on three sides. Like the Strait site,

Swinehart is rich in the remains of intensive settlement, including fire-cracked rock,

pottery, and lithic debris. Furthermore, its temporally diagnostic assemblage also seems

to straddle the Middle-Late Woodland divide, with a mix of Lowe Cluster projectile

points and a small number of bladelets. However, the Swinehart assemblage is clearly

67 more to the Late Woodland side of the divide than the Strait site. Fragments of a number of angled-shoulder ceramic vessels have been found, which tend to be diagnostic of the early Late Woodland period (McMichael 1984). While previous excavations have identified numerous features within the settlement, on-going work at the site with geophysical instruments has identified a number of large pit features (Schweikart 2002).

These likely represent the large cooking pits that are more common on later nucleated settlements, circa A.D. 700-800 (Seeman and Dancey 2000). While discrete household clusters have yet to be defined at Swinehart, the large amounts of domestic debris support the interpretation of this site as a nucleated, Middle-Late Woodland period settlement.

Three sites (Murphy, Strait, and Swinehart) hardly provide an adequate sample for understanding settlement pattern change. But, they do seem to represent three points along the trajectory of Middle-Late Woodland period settlement change from dispersed to nucleated households. Numerous other Middle Woodland mounds and settlements are known to exist in the region, but none have been documented thoroughly enough to be used in addressing models of settlement. Andrews (1880) and Moorehead (1897) mention excavations from a number of mounds in nearby northern Perry County. Moorehead

(1897:174-175) even makes reference to a circular earthwork “enclosing a bird with wings outspread” five or six kilometers east of Strait, but no such earthwork has ever been mentioned since. Other mounds and a “great stone fort,” of enough distinction to be included in Thomas’s massive tome on late nineteenth century mound explorations

(Thomas 1894), are known from the same area. Based on interviews with local artifact collectors, Pacheco has managed to pull together a model of Hopewell settlement in the

Upper Jonathan Creek Valley, just a few kilometers east of Strait (Fig. B.8). His enticing

68 map, a version of which appears in Figure B.10, makes for an excellent settlement model

in need of further testing. Based on the sizes of settlements he reports for this area (0.5-2

ha.), it seems that the Strait site (5-7 ha) is an unusually large, neighboring settlement.

The Strait area is also comparatively distinctive in its lack of recorded mounds.

Despite the rather impressive size and number of earthworks and mounds found in this region, very little data on Middle Woodland period settlements is available. Given the results of the excavations at sites such as Murphy, Swinehart, and Strait, the latter of

which are presented in detail in Chapter 5, the Buckeye Lake Region clearly represents

an import locus of Middle-Late Woodland period settlement change in central Ohio.

The Natural Setting

What is traditionally called the Strait site lies south of Geiger Road within and

immediately adjacent to an old, unplowed animal lot (Fig. B.11). To the west the site is

bordered by a ten-meter high escarpment edge that slopes down to an unnamed, perennial

creek. The site’s southern and eastern boundaries extend 50-150 meters back from the

escarpment edge. Conversations with some of the past and current landowners suggest

that the northern site boundary may extend north, well beyond Geiger Road. To date, all

archaeological research has focused on the site area south of Geiger Road.

While much of the site has been plowed for well over one hundred years, a small

unplowed area has been preserved by its former use as an animal lot. In the 1938 aerial

photo shown in Figure B.12, a red-dashed line encircles the site’s estimated boundary.

The arrow indicates the unplowed portion. The three white ovals inside the unplowed

area likely represent animal feeders. This is the only known disturbance in this area, aside

69 from the on-going natural disturbances. In the 1964 aerial photo (Fig. B.13) the animal

feeders are gone and much of the site looks as it does today.

Geology

The Strait site is located in an area where three bedrock formations come to the

surface but are mostly buried under glacial till (Meeker et al. 1960). To the east of Strait

on the Allegheny Plateau, the Logan fine-grained Sandstone stretches off into Perry

County. Just under Strait, on the edge of the plateau, is the Black Hand coarse sandstone

and conglomerate of the Cuyahoga formation. Finally, to the west side of the plateau

escarpment, the Cuyahoga fine-grained sandstone and interbedded shale forms the

foundation of the Central Lowland till plain physiographic division of central Ohio.

Aside from what is exposed in streambeds, and brought in by the glaciers,

Fairfield County is a chert poor area. However, numerous kinds of chert are found just east of the Strait site, within 20 miles, in Licking, Muskingum, and Perry Counties.

Cherts of the Upper Mercer, Vanport, and Boggs members were readily accessible within

a day’s walk of the site (Stout and Schoenlaub 1945), including chert from the famed

Flint Ridge quarries (Fig. B.8).

Physiography

The Central Lowland area of central Ohio is covered to varying depths by

Illinoisan and Wisconsin glacial till that was deposited as a ground moraine. The ground

surface in this area is relatively flat and streams have broad floodplains. In some areas the

70 streams have cut into the underlying glacial drift leaving bluffs as high as 6-8 meters,

making highly attractive localities for prehistoric occupation that were close to water but

safe from flooding.

The Allegheny Plateau contrasts sharply with the Central Lowlands. The western

edge of the plateau in Fairfield County was glaciated, but essentially it marks the terminal

extent of the Wisconsin glaciation. Most of the plateau is characterized by rugged,

dissected terrain with numerous outcroppings of the underlying bedrock. In this area,

glacial till blanketed an already rugged landscape and filled in some of the valleys (Wolfe

et al. 1962). Twenty kilometers south of Strait in the Hocking Hills region, the plateau

was less affected by the most recent glacial episode and has been weathering for at least the last 250, 000 years (Meeker et al. 1960). Consequently, this area of Fairfield County, as compared to the northern half, is much more rugged, dissected, and sprinkled throughout with rockshelters and a few caves, which are rich in archaeological resources

(Shetrone 1928). These natural shelters played an important, but not totally understood, role in the Middle-Late Woodland settlement pattern (Seeman 1996).

Because of its complex glacial history and local physiography, northern Fairfield

County has an equally complex drainage pattern. The headwaters of three river systems

are in close proximity to Strait (Fig. B.14): those of the Scioto, Licking/Muskingum, and

Hocking Rivers. Such a location probably provided the Strait site inhabitants with easy

access to the tool-stone and edible resources of each of the three drainage systems.

The site proper edges the only small, perennial creek that dumps into Little

Walnut Creek near its headwaters (Fig. B.14). While hardly navigable by watercraft near

71 its headwaters, the Little Walnut Creek Valley, or the drainage divide along its edges, would have provided an excellent corridor for travel. Based on drainage patterns over the last century, it is clear that the Strait site is located on the only perennial stream to empty into the Little Walnut Creek in this area.

Five kilometers north of the site, a vast area of marshes and swamps drained

north, eventually entering the Licking River. Formerly part of the pre-Illinoisian Jonathon

Creek Valley, which drained east and south, this area was cutoff from its natural drainage

when the Wisconsin glacial advance deposited a terminal end moraine across the valley

(Flint 1951). Since that time marshes have dominated the area. In 1828 the construction

of retaining walls around one of the largest of these marshes, known as the “Big Swamp”

was completed and the whole area was flooded to serve as a reservoir for the Ohio-Erie

canal (Detmers 1912a). The reservoir was enlarged in 1832 such that what was once the

“Big Swamp,” no doubt an important resource in Middle Woodland times, is now almost

completely submerged (Fig. B.15). Today this reservoir is known as Buckeye Lake, and

it is now mostly used for recreational activities. Most of the remaining marshes in the

area were drained and by the early 1900s were in cultivation (Detmers 1912a).

Pedology

The soils in the vicinity of the Strait site formed in the glacial till deposited by the

Wisconsin glaciation 10,000-20,000 years ago. This till is typical of most glacial tills in that it contains sediments and clasts picked up from northern latitudes. For northern

Fairfield County, the tills contain materials carved from local sandstones and shale; from limestone, dolomite and shale in northwestern Ohio; and from the granites and other

72 metamorphic and volcanic rocks of Canada. The dominance of northern Ohio limestone and dolomite in the glacial till around Strait has resulted in a moderately calcareous parent material for local soils. Nevertheless, soils at the Strait site are moderately acidic and dominated with sandstone channery in their lower horizons. Of great importance to the magnetic survey, the soils of the Strait site contain scattered igneous boulders containing minerals with a strong thermoremnance, or remnant magnetism (see Clark

2000 for a discussion of remnant magnetism).

The main concentrations of prehistoric debris at Strait occur on two soil types,

Bennington Silt Loam (0-2% slope) and Cardington Silt Loam (2-6% slope, moderately eroded). However, most of the artifacts are confined to the Cardington Silt Loam.

Bennington and Cardington soils are common, upland forest soils with A, E, B, and C horizons. Cardington soils are somewhat more well-drained than Bennington because of differences in slope. Typical Bennington and Cardington soil profiles include the following horizons, as reported in 1960 by the USDA Soil Conservation Service (Meeker et al. 1960:12):

Bennington silt loam, 0-2 % slope

Surficial [A and E horizons]

0-18 cm: grayish-brown to dark grayish-brown very friable silt loam; moderate medium granular structure; medium to low content of organic matter; medium acid.

18-28 cm, grayish-brown friable silt loam with faint, fine, yelllowish-brown mottles; moderate medium to fine granular structure; medium acid.

Subsoil [B horizon]

28-38 cm, yellowish-brown firm to friable silt loam, with distinct, medium,

73 grayish-brown mottles; moderate medium to fine subangular blocky structure; strongly acid.

38-89cm, dark yellowish-brown firm clay loam with many, distinct, coarse, grayish-brown and dark-gray mottles; moderate medium to coarse subangular blocky structure; strongly acid to slightly acid, grading to neutral in the lower part of the layer; lowest 25-30 cm is coarser textured and more gravelly and gritty.

Parent Material [C horizon]

89 cm and below, yellowish-brown firm loam to coaroa clay loam glacial till; contains many fragments of shale and sandstone and a few fragments of limestone; calcareous.

Cardington Silt Loam, 2-6 % slope

Surficial [A horizon]

0-20 cm, dark grayish-brown friable silt loam; moderate fine to medium granular structure; medium content of organic matter; slightly acid.

Subsoil [EB and B horizon]

20-33 cm, yellowish-brown friable to firm silty clay loam to clay loam; moderate medium subangular blocky structure; medium acid.

33-66 cm, yellowish-brown firm clay loam with faint to distinct, light brownish-gray mottles; moderate medium to coarse subangular blocky structure; medium acid in upper part, grading to neutral in lower part.

Parent Material [C horizon]

66 cm and below, yellowish-brown firm loam glacial till; massive in place; contains many fragments of shale and sandstone and a few fragments of igneous rock and limestone; calcareous.

These two soils at Strait, especially Cardington, have thick, anthropic A horizons from

intensive, prehistoric activity. In some locations within the unplowed woodlot, the A

74 horizon is over 60 cm deep. Additionally, there are other areas at Strait that almost

completely lack an A horizon. The Strait site occupants may have intentionally stripped

these areas of their upper layers. Thus, anthropogenic soil formation factors have clearly

dominated the development of soil profiles at Strait over the last 2000 years. A lack of clear stratigraphy in the refuse piles and general midden deposits at the site also demonstrate that many other soil formation factors, such as faunal and floral turbation, have been active at the site. While these processes have impacted the vertical distribution of objects to some degree, their horizontal effects are probably minimal.

Precontact Vegetation and Fauna

Today the region surrounding Buckeye Lake is largely used for growing corn and soybeans; few large stands of mature trees remain. The first Euroamerican settlers in the region arrived in the late 1790s (Graham 1883). Much of the land was originally cleared in the early 1800s, following on the heels of the sense of progress brought to the area by

the Ohio-Erie canal. During this early period of land clearance, the trees were commonly

just cut and burned to make way for agricultural fields (Heffner 1939). Some of the

wilder areas, the numerous bogs and swamps, were preserved intact until the early 1900s,

when they too were drained and cleared (Detmers 1912a, b). These swamps, such as the

“Big Swamp” that is today Buckeye Lake, were as much or more swampy forest than

open water. They covered from a couple dozen to 4200 acres apiece. Amazingly, and in

the face of all this change, one plant community has survived from the time of its glacial

origin. The Cranberry Bog that now floats in Buckeye Lake was much larger back when

the inhabitants of the Strait site hunted in the Big Swamp. Unusual resources like the

75 cranberry bog must have been a major factor in the decision to settle such a long way away from the rich food resources of the major valley floodplains.

Despite the lack of floodplain resources, the Strait site is ideally situated on the landscape for its occupants to have taken advantage of what must have been a tremendous mix of food resources. Based on field data collected in the 1930s and witness tree identifications made during the original land surveys of the early 1800s, Heffner

(1939) reconstructed the pre-Euroamerican vegetation pattern in the Strait site area.

While witness tree data are rather coarse-grained for understanding the complex variability of microhabitats, these data have proven useful in understanding the basic forest composition of even the more dissected areas to the south of the Strait site (Chute

1951). Based on the forest reconstruction data, and assuming some general degree of continuity back to the time of the Hopewell, the Strait site sat in the middle of a beach- maple forest cul-du-sac. Beech and sugar maple trees dominated the immediate vicinity of the settlement, with a mix of black walnut, hickory, oak and other species. This mix alone would have provided for a large tree crop of nuts and maple sap. Vast stands of oaks and hickories were available to the south and east of the site where the beech-maple forests graded into oak-hickory stands on the unglaciated Allegheny Plateau (ca. 4-5 kilometers) (Chute 1951). Very large tracts of swamp forest dominated the landscape to the north in the area of the Big Swamp and its smaller neighbors (Detmers 1912b). The

Swamp forests contained a great mix of species, including elm, white ash, beech, and some oaks and walnuts. Small treeless areas were also present at the time of the early

76 land surveys. These seem to be primarily located near the headwaters of small,

intermittent streams. At the time of Euroamerican settlement, many of these “prairies”

were known (Hill 1881).

Such a varied forest cover with plentiful nut crops and moisture from numerous

bogs and swamps probably supported a large population of animal resources. The

swamps would have provided ready access to abundant reptiles and the long narrow strip

of supposedly open water in the Big Swamp was a likely congregation point for

migratory birds. Many historic accounts suggest the swamps of the area were a major

fishing attraction for the last remaining Native American groups (Wyandot and

Delaware), who still frequented the area as late as 1810 (Hill 1881).

Larger mammals, such as black bear and deer probably took advantage of the

plentiful resources at vegetation zone interfaces. In one account (Graham 1883:259) an early Euroamerican marksman and resident of the Big Swamp area is said to have “killed one panther [sic], sixty-three wolves, and large numbers of deer; wild turkeys, coons, foxes, and smaller game.” If Wymer (1996) is correct in the degree of forest clearance

practiced by Middle-Late Woodland populations, this area also probably contained

intentionally cleared plots of land experiencing various stages of forest re-growth. Such

areas would have attracted many kinds of animal life. Overall, the glaciated edge of the

Allegheny Plateau likely provided the Strait site occupants some of the most widely

ranging food resources available in the state. Similar physiographic locations to the south

and west in Ross County supported the largest concentration of Hopewell mortuary-

ceremonial centers known in Ohio.

77

Archaeological Background

Strait has been assigned a handful of state site numbers over the years. This is

probably due to the varied character of the various artifact collection projects (amateur

and professional) that have been conducted there, and also the nature of the site itself in that it is comprised of a number of closely-nucleated artifact clusters. The numbers,

33Fa185, 33Fa186, 33Fa187, and 33Fa253, have all been assigned to various parts of the same archaeological deposit. Site numbers 33Fa185-187 include three areas of the site containing habitation debris, while 33Fa253 was used to refer to a low rise in the unplowed area of the site that, in the mid-1980s, was thought to represent a mound.

Subsequent excavations by a group of amateur archaeologists showed that the possible mound was instead a dense accumulation of domestic refuse. Two other numbers,

33Fa188 and 33Fa189, are used to identify possible Archaic clusters in the field south of the Strait site but north of Little Walnut Creek.

Local amateur archaeologists and collectors have known about the Strait site for at least the last one hundred years. In fact, as in many instances of the discovery of Ohio archaeological sites, it was the amateur archaeologists who first made the site more widely known (Sycamore Run Chapter 1983; Gehlbach 1985). In the 1980s the Sycamore

Run Chapter of the Archaeological Society of Ohio conducted two field projects on the site, one a surface collection in the plowed fields and the other an excavation in the unplowed area. Both projects have been reported on to a limited degree, but the results of neither project were ever used to their fullest potential.

78 1983 Surface Collection

In 1983, a newly formed chapter of the Archaeological Society of Ohio, the

Sycamore Run Chapter (which has since disbanded), decided to conduct a survey at the

Strait site as their first chapter project (Sycamore Run Chapter 1983). Some of this work,

the systematic surface surveys, was directed by Len Piotrowski and Bruce Aument, then

graduate students at The Ohio State University, at the suggestion of and with support

from the OSU Region 6A Branch of the State Historic Preservation Office. One of these

projects, which is discussed in more detail here, included a gridded surface collection

across a small portion of the site.

The grid survey took place just south of the unplowed area of the site (Fig. B.16).

During this controlled surface collection, artifacts were picked up in 1200 2x2 meter

blocks set out using tape measures. All objects (n=4109) except fire-cracked rock were

collected. Figure B.17 is a contour map of artifact density per unit. Portions of two, and

possibly three large clusters are apparent in these data, with a large area (between E-440

and E-424) clearly lacking debris. Cluster 1 is at least 30-40 meters across at its widest

and is obviously the most densely clustered area of this controlled survey, with 2.3

objects per square meter. Cluster 2 is somewhat less dense with 1.4 objects per square

meter, while Cluster 3 has the fewest objects per square meter at just 0.8. These numbers

may be somewhat misleading given the presence of the nearly artifact free area between

Clusters 1 and 3, which may in fact be an intentionally maintained clear space. Work

performed inside the unplowed area supports this possibility. Nevertheless, even if the

clear space is removed from the density calculations, Cluster 3 is still less dense with

only about 0.9 objects per square meter.

79 Of greater importance than cluster density is the diversity of objects found in each

cluster. What settlement activities, if any, resulted in the deposition of these objects in

possibly clustered arrangements and do the clusters share similar kinds of artifact class

frequencies? Table 3.1 lists the frequencies of select artifact classes per cluster.

Significantly, despite differences in artifact density at the surface, all three clusters seem

to contain the same kinds of artifacts in similar frequencies. The lack of bone and low

frequency of pottery is likely related to two biasing factors, differential preservation and visibility. Chert objects are not only more visible on the surface of a cultivated field but they also can survive the accelerated weathering caused by over 100 years of mechanized cultivation. Thus, the frequency and distribution of the stone objects may be the most revealing.

Debitage Pottery Projectil es Bifaces Bladelets Bladelet Cores Other Core Unifaces Total Cluster 1 2336 19 3 22 28 7 10 9 2423 Percentage 96.4 0.8 0.1 0.9 1.1 0.3 0.4 0.3 Cluster 2 702 6 4 9 15 4 3 0 740 Percentage 94.9 0.8 0.5 1.2 2 0.5 0.4 0 Cluster 3 906 2 6 7 10 2 7 1 946 Percentage 95.8 0.2 0.6 0.7 1.1 0.2 0.7 0.1 Total Area 3944 27 13 38 53 13 20 10 4109 Percentage 95.9 0.6 0.3 0.9 1.3 0.3 0.5 0.2

Table 3.1: Data from Select artifact classes from the 1983 gridded surface collection at the Strait site.

Except for unifaces, which are realtively rare in all clusters, each cluster contains similar kinds of tools and debris arranged in similar ways. Bladelets, biface fragments, 80 Bladelet cores, and Amorphous cores are widely spread across each of the clusters (Fig.

B.18). Projectile point fragments, pottery sherds, and unifaces seem to be restricted in their distributions within each of the clusters (Fig. B.19). Projectile points are spread out along the edges of the clusters while unifaces and pottery sherds are clustered together at various places within the clusters.

In sum, the 1983 controlled surface collection seems to have identified portions of three intrasite artifact clusters just south of the unplowed area and along the southern edge of the site. In a very general sense, each cluster contains a similar set of artifacts arranged in like patterns. It is possible that these clusters represent the remains of three adjacent household clusters. However, based on the more extensive investigations performed in the unplowed area, it will be shown that the distribution of lithic debris is typically broad across the site, though it does cluster with other artifact classes. These class, high density clusters are suggested as representing formal refuse dumps in Chapter

5. Thus, it is likely that Cluster 2 represents the plowed up remains of a refuse dump. If structures are present, then they will likely be found near the edges of these clusters.

Further comparison with the results of the more recent work (presented in Chapters 5) may help determine the function of these clusters.

1985 Sycamore Run Chapter Project

In 1985 the Sycamore Run Chapter again visited the site for some group field work but this time they focused on excavating a portion of the unplowed area of the site they thought might represent a mound (Fig. B.20) (Gehlbach 1985). In depth descriptions are lacking in the published material, so it is unknown whether or not good notes were

81 taken. However, a number of pictures of excavations in progress accompanied the very

brief tale of the procedures and methodology. Some of the participants in this project

have numerous additional pictures.

The first task of the excavation involved the removal (using a backhoe) of

"approximately twelve inches of field grass" (Gehlbach 1985:12) from the surface of

what was thought to be a Middle Woodland mound (33Fa253). Once the sod was

removed, hand excavations were used to remove up to four feet of sediment in some

places. No Middle Woodland burials or ceremonial deposits were found, though large

amounts of debris were encountered.

One intriguing sentence in the published material, however, provides some very

important information: "Finally, at a depth of about four feet, in the central (highest

elevation) squares, sterile yellow clay subsoil was encountered" (Gehlbach 1985:12). As

will be discussed more in subsequent chapters, while this would be the thickest deposit of

refuse at Strait so far uncovered, large portions of the unplowed area of the site are

covered by a relatively thick (30-50 cm), anthropogenic layer. The presence of charcoal

and large amounts of pottery sherds and lithic debitage support the idea that this part of

the settlement was refuse dump, rather than a mound. That said, two copper objects were

found in this area, including one definite and one possible copper celt (Gehlbach 1985).

Finding copper objects in the refuse dumps of Middle Woodland period domestic sites is a rare occurrence in Ohio, though not unknown. A small bi-pointed copper “drill” was found in a refuse dump at the McGraw site in Ross County, Ohio, among many other rare

objects (e.g., figurine extremities) (Prufer 1965).

In sum, these two early episodes (1983, 1985) of work at Strait demonstrate that

82 the site is indeed Middle Woodland period in age and contains a wide range of debris and tools spread across the site in varying densities. The surface collections are especially telling in that they show that debris densities can drop rather precipitously within a short distance. A similar pattern was uncovered by shovel testing in the unplowed area just to the north of the 1983 controlled surface collection. Furthermore, the debris distribution pattern evident in the 1983 controlled surface collection, in particular the presence of

Cluster 2 and the artifact void next to it, clearly extend northward into the unplowed area.

1994 OSU Testing

In 1994 Dr. William S. Dancey was contacted by the owners of the Strait site, who were then considering adding it to the surrounding field acreage. Fortunately, they were aware that a fairly significant archaeological site would be impacted by this activity and decided to hold off on destroying the integrity of a potentially unplowed prehistoric settlement. In the fall of 1994 a preliminary shovel test survey was conducted across a small portion of the site’s unplowed area by a crew of graduate students, including me, from The Ohio State University (Fig. B.21).

The primary goal of this work was the identification of variability in horizontal and/or vertical artifact density across the area suggesting the presence of discrete household clusters. The shovel test sample consisted of three transects of shovel tests radiating out from a common point (1995 datum at 1000E, 1000N) at an interval of five meters (Fig. B.22). The sediment was screened through ¼ inch mesh and the artifacts were sorted from the non-artifactual material in the field and bagged per 10 cm.

83 The 1994 work resulted in the recovery of 571 objects. There were three

surprising results from this work. First, over 90% of the artifacts recovered had a

maximum diameter smaller than three centimeters, including the fire-cracked rock.

Second, sixteen percent of the recovered artifact assemblage (not including fire-cracked

rock) was burned to some degree. And finally, quite a number of our shovel tests,

especially those to the south of our 1995 datum at 1000E, 1000N, encountered almost no

artifacts. These results were both encouraging and puzzling. It was clear that this area of

the site was unplowed, but it was assumed that this would mean that numerous and larger

artifacts would be recovered, especially pottery. At the time we did not realize that our shovel test transects crosscut at least one structure and a potential artifact-free community space, which can be seen between Clusters 2 and 3 in the 1983 surface collected debris

(Fig. B.16) just south of our southern-most shovel test in 1994.

In 1995 an additional 16 shovel tests and 20 posthole tests were used to extend the testing of site structure found in 1994 (Fig. B.22). Most of these tests crosscut very low-

density areas of the site. For example, almost no artifacts were found east of E320 along

the N440 line. In fact, this area is the head of a small, seasonally wet gully that extends

south toward Little Walnut Creek. Thus, the results of this work showed that the artifact

distribution pattern was very structured, but at the time it seemed as if it was limited in

artifact quantity because of this structure (i.e., most of the artifacts found were in small,

but very high density clusters). These findings also suggested that close interval shovel

testing could be used to reveal site structure. Together with the surface collections from

1983 and the 1985 excavations, by the end of 1995 it was clear that the Strait site represented a late Middle Woodland period settlement consisting of scattered clusters, or

84 nodes, of domestic debris. It was then hypothesized that these nodes of debris represented

a series of contemporaneously occupied household clusters with a possible community

area covering about 1600-1800 m2 that was intentionally kept clean of debris.

Furthermore, artifact density patterning seems to suggest that the high-density clusters were approximately 20 meters across. This information was important in developing the research design presented in Chapter 4.

85

CHAPTER 4

RESEARCH METHODS: FIELDWORK

Field Methods

Four methods were used at the Strait site to define settlement structure, search for household clusters, and in general characterize the site’s archaeological deposit: shovel testing, surface collection, geophysical survey, and block excavation. Shovel testing and surface collection were used to define artifact patterns across large portions of the site’s unplowed and plowed areas, respectively. While geophysical survey is another ideal tool for testing large areas and for finding subsurface household cluster remnants, for this research it was only used sparingly as more emphasis was given to debris distribution studies. Based primarily on debris distribution patterns, block excavation served to test for the presence of the physical remains of household clusters.

Shovel Testing

Characterizing the debris distribution patterns across the study area is the first, and perhaps most important, step in defining site structure at Strait. Evidence for much of a household’s day-to-day activities can be found in the debris its members generate.

Based on the information gleaned from previous investigations of Middle-Late Woodland

86 households in Chapter 2, houses (covering about 100m2) and their near-space house lots

typically cover an area less than 400 m2—a 20 by 20 meter block. Thus, the first step in

the field was to establish a 20 by 20 meter grid in the unplowed area, which covers

approximately 1.2 hectares.

Based on the earlier work from 1985, 1994, and 1995, it was clear that artifact

density varies to a considerable degree across this area. Some parts of this area are known

to be wet and contain very few artifacts while others are very high in artifact density.

Additionally, some parts have been highly impacted by previous investigations (i.e., the

1985 excavations), the boundaries of which cannot be accurately re-established. With this

information in mind, 21 20 by 20 meter blocks (8400 m2) were chosen for shovel testing

(the population). As shown in Figure B.23, most of these blocks are complete, but some, especially those along the north and west edges of the area, are only partial blocks.

Random sampling was used to achieve a representative sample across the 21

blocks, following Redman (1975). Each 20 by 20 meter block served as an independent

sampling strata within which 30 randomly positioned shovel tests (sampling frame)

served to acquire a representative sample of debris density and composition. The 30

randomly chosen sample locations are actually three independent sets of ten sample

locations. These independent sets of 10 tests were generated for each block so that the

representativeness of the sampling technique within each block could be evaluated. Space

requires that this exercise be saved for future study. For this study, the three sets of

independently generated samples in each block are conflated into one set of 30 samples

for each block.

87 Each 20 by 20 meter sampling strata was divided into 35 by 35 cm blocks, each of which was assigned a number one through 3249. For each of the 21 sampling strata, a random number table was used to select 30 test locations from the population of 3249. In selecting the sample, a starting place was first blindly chosen in the number table. This chosen point in the number table served as the starting point for generating ten numbers.

From the starting point, and moving in a random direction, the numbers were scanned in sets of four for an integer between 0001 and 3249. If the 4 digits encountered did not fall within this number range, the next four digits in the sequence were consulted until ten four-digit numbers were identified. After identifying ten samples, a new starting place was chosen for another series of ten numbers. As mentioned previously, three sets of ten independent numbers were generated for each sampling strata (i.e., shovel test block).

Because of various, uncontrollable factors when excavating shovel tests, each shovel test ranged in size from 28-35 cm. Thus every location within each block had an approximately equal chance of being chosen through this technique. Most importantly, randomly determining the location of the shovel test samples removed as much investigator bias as possible (Redman 1975). Through this technique, the shovel testing provided an approximate 0.5-1 percent representative sample (sampling fraction) of each

20 by 20 meter block.

Implementing the sampling strategy in the field was a fairly simple process. The corners of the 20 by 20 meter blocks were set in to within a centimeter using a laser transit. Three 20 meter, fiberglass tape measures were then used to set a pin flag at the southwest corner of each of the thirty randomly chosen locations. If too many locations were impossible to excavate, because of trees or other obstructions, then a new set of

88 randomly generated samples was chosen. In some cases, partial blocks were chosen for shovel testing. For example, many of the blocks along the escarpment edge are not complete. No shovel tests were excavated on the slope of the escarpment. Thus, some

blocks are less than 20 by 20 meters in size and contain fewer than 30 shovel tests.

Across all 21 blocks, 556 shovel tests were excavated over a three-year period,

from 1997 to 2000 (Fig. B.23). A five-week Ohio State University field school with 20

students, under the direction of Dr. William S. Dancey and myself, began the shovel

testing program and in subsequent years it was completed with the help of many

volunteers. Table 4.1 details the number of shovel tests excavated in each block. Only

Block 14 deviated from the procedure described above.

During testing of this block, an informant interview suggested that this area of the

site may have been disturbed by an uncontrolled and clandestine backhoe trench

excavated in 1985. The presence of this trench may be indicated in the electrical

resistivity data collected in 1999 and discussed in Chapter 5. Despite the possible

disturbance, the data generated by the 13 shovel tests excavated in this block are

considered with all the rest and appear in the distribution maps presented in Chapter 5.

Consistent and controlled techniques were used to excavate all shovel tests. The goal was to excavate shovel tests of equal volumes so that artifact density per test could be compared across the entire area whether using shovel test or excavation unit data (e.g., 1 by 1 meter units). To standardize the testing process, each shovel test was excavated in

20 cm levels. The volume of these levels was controlled by specifying that each level had to have a volume that filled a five-gallon bucket. Thus, every shovel test level was 20 cm in depth and of a horizontal dimension that resulted in five gallons of sediment. This

89

Block Number of Standardizing Northing Easting Number Samples Multiplier 1 400 200 27 1.11 2 420 200 22 1.36 3 440 200 16 1.88 4 400 220 27 1.11 5 420 220 29 1.03 6 440 220 27 1.11 7 400 240 27 1.11 8 420 240 29 1.03 9 440 240 27 1.11 10 400 260 24 1.25 11 420 260 29 1.03 12 440 260 30 1 13 460 260 30 1 14 440 280 13 2.3 15 460 280 29 1.03 16 460 300 30 1 17 480 300 24 1.25 18 460 320 30 1 19 480 320 30 1 20 460 340 29 1.03 21 500 340 28 1.07 Total 556

Table 4.1: Sample information for the shovel test blocks.

excavation strategy produced square shovel tests of 28-35 cm per side. Variation in the

compaction of the sediment, both in the ground and in the bucket, represents one source

for error in this procedure. Additionally, some shovel tests encountered obstructions, such

as large tree roots, that required one dimension of the shovel test to be longer than

another. Nevertheless, this procedure produced fairly consistent, volumetric samples

across the 21 blocks tested.

Shovel test excavators filled out a standardized form for each shovel test. The

forms included information such as a rough profile of the shovel test, observations on soil horizonation, and estimates of shovel test contents. All excavated sediment from each of

90 the shovel tests was sifted through a 0.635 cm (1/4 inch) mesh screen. Because students

and volunteers with little to no archaeological experience comprised most of the shovel

test field crew, all objects remaining in the screen, artifacts and nonartifacts alike, were

placed in plastic, one-gallon bags by 20 cm level and returned to the laboratory for

processing (soaking and washing) and sorting. In this way time was not wasted during the

excavation process on picking the many artifacts out of the screen. Perhaps more

importantly, it was much easier to ensure that all artifacts were removed from the sample

once the sample was washed and sorted under a good light source. Only in this way was

it possible to consistently recover the many small ceramic sherds that covered much of

the shovel-tested area. The shovel testing program yielded about 1150 bags for laboratory

processing.

Surface Collection

The unplowed area of the Strait site is but a small portion of a much larger

archaeological deposit. To compliment the shovel test data and evaluate the impact of over one hundred years of cultivation and artifact collecting, a small crew conducted a surface collection on 65.5 ha (ca. 26.5 acres) of the field surrounding the unplowed area

(Fig. B.24). This transect survey covered approximately ten percent of the surface in the survey area. Transects were spaced ten meters apart and crewmembers flagged all artifacts in a one-meter-wide corridor at their feet. A Topcon laser transit with a 48GX

Hewlett Packard data collector was used to measure in the location of all artifacts while a

Trimble ProXR GPS system provided locational data on the field boundaries. Figure B.25 shows the distribution of all objects located during the surface collection. All objects

91 were collected, including fire-cracked rock, and placed into individually numbered bags.

An additional 86.5 hectares (213.7 acres) were surveyed to the east of the Strait site, both near and away from Little Walnut Creek (Fig. B.26), but no other Woodland period remains were found. Figure B.26 also indicates the locations of known archaeological

materials that have yet to be systematically surveyed, some of which have produced

Middle Woodland period objects.

Geophysical Survey

As a compliment to the shovel test debris distribution data and to identify buried, intact prehistoric features, small-scale surveys were performed using two different geophysical instruments. Geophysical testing instruments passively and actively measure a wide range of physical properties of near surface sediments by detecting subtle differences in electrical conductivity, electrical resistivity, and magnetic

susceptibility/remanent magnetism, among many other observable properties (Weymouth

1986). This research employed two kinds of geophysical survey instruments, in both the

unplowed and plowed areas. In select portions of the unplowed area a Geoscan Research

RM 15 was used to test electrical resistivity; a Geoscan Research FM 36 fluxgate

gradiometer, a type of magnetometer, was used to log changes in the local magnetic

gradient both the plowed and unplowed areas. Both instruments were specially designed

for archaeological applications and can log up to thousands of readings per 20 by 20

meter block.

Magnetometers are very sensitive to ferromagnetic materials (e.g., iron objects).

Iron objects, such as nails, farm machinery parts, and many other structural and

92 mechanical components, have very strong, unmistakable magnetic signatures. However,

what sets magnetometers apart from more common metal detectors, besides only being

sensitive to ferromagnetic materials, is their extreme sensitivity—magnetometers can

detect very subtle changes in sediments. Most magnetometers react to two kinds of magnetization on archaeological sites: thermoremanent magnetization and magnetic susceptibility (Clark 2000). When sediments and rocks are heated above a certain temperature, known as the ferromagnetic Curie temperature (ca. 500-700!C; Lowrie

1997), their magnetization is in effect zeroed and realigned to the local magnetic field,

producing a permanent remanent magnetization. Campfires can produce more than

enough heat to reach the Curie point and thus permanently alter the magnetic properties

of nearby minerals and sediments. Upon cooling, magnetic minerals, such as magnetite

and hematite, recrystalize and are fixed with a common orientation toward magnetic

north. Intense heating can make an otherwise magnetically neutral (i.e., random) patch of

ground highly magnetic by producing magnetic wood ash and by altering minerals in the

ground itself (Linford and Canti 2001).

Soils and ferromagnetic substances that have high magnetic susceptibility react to

induced magnetic fields, which in most archaeological cases is the earth’s own magnetic

field. Certain soil horizons and components of soil, such as topsoil, are more susceptible

to induced magnetic fields than other kinds of soil. If a hole dug a few feet into the

ground is backfilled with mixed up sediments, the backfilled hole will likely have a

different magnetic susceptibility than the surrounding, intact soils—especially if the

topsoil ends up in the bottom of the hole adjacent to clay-rich subsoil. Human occupation

of an area is known to enhance the underlying soil’s magnetic susceptibility (Tite and

93 Mullins 1971). While the mechanisms behind this magnetic enhancement are not totally

understood, bacteria that use and produce small magnetic particles are known to be at

least part of the process (Fassbinder et al. 1990).

The FM36 fluxgate gradiometer simultaneously detects both kinds of magnetism,

remanent magnetism and magnetic susceptibility, and cannot differentiate the two. This

instrument contains two fluxgate detectors in a gradiometer array—that is, the two detectors are arranged one atop the other. Detector separation in the FM36 is fixed at 50 cm. The upper most detector senses the earth’s background magnetic field, which in the

Midwest U.S. measures approximately 50,000-60,000 nanotesla and can vary as much as a few hundred nanotesla from morning to evening in one day (Breiner 1973). The top detector may also be somewhat affected by exceptionally intense, below ground magnetic objects. The lower detector senses the earth’s background magnetic field and changes in it caused by objects or soils on the surface or up to about two to three feet beneath the surface. Fired earth in prehistoric hearths and organic-rich soil in buried trash pits tend to concentrate the earth’s magnetic field in measurable amounts of approximately 3-20 nanotesla in Ohio. The instrument’s onboard computer subtracts the reading of the top

detector (earth’s varying background magnetism) from the reading of the bottom detector

(earth’s varying background magnetism plus local magnetic variability), leaving the local

magnetic gradient caused by surface and buried phenomena. This number is stored in the

instrument until a data dump is performed.

The use of electrical resistivity to find subsurface archaeological phenomena

relies on a current’s variability in resistance to flow through a volume of material. In

sediments, current (I) flows (a.k.a. conduction) in an electrolytic manner. That is, current

94 flow occurs as the displacement of ions within the interstitial water of sediments through electron transfer (Scollar et al. 1990). This process is more rapid in sediments containing greater amounts of interstitial water and increasing levels of dissolved salts (which are good agents of electron transfer). Resistivity, then, is a sediment’s inability to transfer electrons from one place to another due to a lack of water and ions (dissolved salts), the

V presence of air pockets, and other factors. Ohm’s Law states that R = where R is the I resistivity, V is voltage, and I is current. Thus, measuring resistivity in sediments is as

simple as applying a voltage to the ground and measuring the voltage potential (as it

relates to current flow) at varying distances from the probe. Clearly sediment porosity,

chemistry, and moisture content are three important factors of resistivity surveys that are

affected by human occupation of a site.

Another important factor that makes measuring the ground’s conductivity, or

resistivity, useful for archaeology is that when a voltage difference is set up between two

probes, current does not flow directly from one probe to the other. Rather, in

homogenous sediments it radiates out from the source probe in a symmetrical hemisphere

(Clark 2000). At any given distance (r) from the probe the voltage changes because of

ρI resistance and can be calculated as V = where ρ is the resistivity, I is current, and r 2πr

the distance from the current source. Because the current radiates out from the source

probe, it is affected by the resistivity of the matrix below it and next to it. If another probe

(current sink) is added to this scenario so that current flows from probe 1 (C1- current

source probe) to probe 2 (C2-current sink probe), then the resistivity (or conductivity) of

the sediment matrix between the probes can be measured to a depth dependent on the

95 spacing of the probes. The greater the spacing of the probes, the deeper the current flows and sediment, or soil, resistivity can be measured.

Four probe arrays are now used to overcome a number of problems that beset two probe arrays, including contact voltages, probe polarization, earth currents, and contact resistance (Clark 2000). There are numerous configurations of four probe arrays that can be used to measure soil resistivity. The Geoscan Research RM-15 instrument used in this survey has probes arranged in a Twin-probe array. This arrangement of probes, first published by Aspinall and Lynam (1970), has many advantages over other configurations. It is composed of two sets of probes separated by at least 30 times the distance of the probe spacing within each set. If the probes of one set have a spacing of

0.5 meters, then the other set must be 15 meters distant. These two sets of probes consist of a pair of remote probes (C2 and P2) and a pair of roving probes (C1 and P1), the latter of which is used to take measurements at desired locations. This roving probe arrangement is less affected by background noise. The spacing of the roving probes can be fixed so that probe spacing error is controlled. Current penetration is better and closer to the theoretical projection of hemispherical because of the distant spacing of the current probes. And, finally, there is no inverted “W” effect common to the data generated by other four probe configurations like the Wenner array (Aitken 1974). The improved current penetration of this configuration allows the Twin-Probe array to detect cultural features at depths similar to those possible with other arrays, but with less probe separation. This allows for a more mobile instrument that is quicker to operate—an important feature in the unplowed area of the Strait site, which is partially covered by trees. Of the many probe arrays that can be used to measure resistivity, the Twin-Probe

96 array detects the smallest percentage of change when features are encountered, which is an unfortunate limitation.

Geophysical surveys are typically conducted by taking numerous readings along parallel lines (a.k.a. transects) in a rectilinear block (a.k.a. block). In the unplowed area, the electrical resistivity survey covered eight 20 by 20 meter blocks and the magnetic survey covered five 10 by 10 meter blocks (Fig. B.27). The resistivity survey was largely exploratory and experimental, though it was hoped that at a minimum change in thickness of the midden deposit could be defined. One reading was collected per meter along transects spaced one meter apart, yielding 400 readings per block. As will be shown in

Chapter 5, the results of the survey were quite useful.

In contrast, the use of the magnetic survey in the unplowed area was goal oriented. Specifically, it was used in an attempt to define the edges of the structure encountered during excavations in Excavation Block 2 and to find any associated subsurface features to the east and north of the structure. At both tasks it seems to have worked well. The FM 36 was used to collect 8 readings per meter along transects spaced

50 cm apart. Magnetic survey in each of the 10 by 10 meter blocks produced 1,600 readings apiece. Outside the unplowed area, another small block of magnetic data (30 x

40 meter) was collected to compliment the surface collected data (see Fig. B.25). In this case twice as much data was collected, eight readings per meter with a 25 cm transect spacing, in an effort to detect the remains of structures (i.e., postholes).

Both the electrical resistivity and the magnetic gradient data were processed using

Geoscan Research’s Geoplot software. Such processing is fairly common and involves applying mathematical algorithms to the data in an effort to reduce background noise and

97 accentuate the potential, buried archaeological phenomena. Four processing algorithms were used in the following order to prepare the magnetic data for presentation and analysis: Zero Mean Traverse, Interpolation, Low Pass Filter, and Clip. The electrical resistivity data required less filtering and were processed using the following functions:

Edge Match, Despike, and Search and Replace to remove a few bad readings. The reader is referred to the Geoplot version 3 for Windows instruction manual (Geoscan Research

2002) for more specific information on the nature of the processing functions used here.

Block Unit Excavation

Ultimately, large areas must be carefully excavated to completely document the structure of household clusters. After all, many of the facilities associated with household clusters were originally located below ground, at least in part. And, more often than not, artifact distribution patterns are of little use in specifically defining the exact location, size, and function of these subsurface facilities.

At Strait a suite of techniques was used to determine the location of the numerous excavation units (see Table 4.2 for coordinates), which were in most cases excavated concurrently with the shovel testing program. In an attempt to uncover the remains of possible structures, two larger block excavations, Excavation Blocks 1 and 2, were established in areas thought to contain structural remains based on the preliminary debris distribution patterns revealed by the shovel testing (Fig. B.28). In both areas shovel tests had encountered at least one posthole. The shovel tests also showed that both of these areas had fairly low artifact densities but were situated immediately adjacent to discrete,

98

Excavation Northing* Easting* Size (m2) Condition Unit Block 1 445 269 9 unplowed Block 2 435 209 21 unplowed A 442 215 1 unplowed B 443 216 1 unplowed C 433.5 217.5 1 unplowed D 437 221.5 2 unplowed E 462 267 4 unplowed F 459.5 380 1 plowed G 462 380 1 plowed H 464 380 1 plowed I 463 381.5 0.5 plowed J 480 387.5 0.5 plowed K 464 410.5 0.5 plowed Total 43.5 * coordinates represent the southwest corner of each unit.

Table 4.2. Excavation unit location, size, and disturbance status.

high-density debris deposits (i.e., what were then thought to be refuse dumps). The excavation blocks were initially excavated in a checkerboard pattern so as to cover a larger space while removing less of the site. Both blocks were expanded as subsurface features were uncovered. Suspected refuse dumps near Blocks 1 and 2 were sampled with a number of opportunistic excavation units (A, B, and E) in an effort to evaluate the degree to which rare and infrequent objects were represented in the shovel test data (Asch

1975). Finally, Excavation Units C, D, and F-K were excavated to ground truth magnetic anomalies. A laser transit and tape measures were used to stake-out or measure-in all units from existing hubs that were set in with a laser transit.

99 In total, the excavation blocks and units covered 43.5 m2 (Table 4.2). All blocks and units in the unplowed area were divided into 1 by 1 meter units that were subdivided into 50 by 50 cm squares (a.k.a quadrants). Each 50 by 50 cm quadrant was excavated in

10 cm levels using shovels and trowels until sterile subsoil was encountered. An excavation unit form was kept for each level of every 1 by 1 meter unit. Using this methodology, the smallest unit of provenience in excavations outside of feature contexts is a 50 by 50 by 10 cm (0.025 m3 or 25 l) volume of sediment. Samples of unscreened sediment (ca. 10-12 l) were collected for flotation from select proveniences in Block 2 and in Excavation Units A-E. None of the sediment samples from the block excavations have been processed and therefore the objects and botanical remains in those samples cannot be included in this study. In the plowed area, the plowzone was excavated as one level, rather than by 10 cm levels, in quadrants of 1 by 1 meter units and no sediment samples were collected from plowzone contexts for flotation. In some cases the entire 1 by 1 unit was not excavated.

As with the shovel tests, all sediment excavated from the blocks and units was screened through a 0.635 (1/4 inch) mess screen and all objects remaining in the screen were bagged and brought back to the laboratory for cleaning and sorting. A sequentially assigned number list (FS# list) was used to track bags as they moved through the various stages of processing, from the field, through lab processing, and into the analysis stage.

All soil discolorations found in excavation units received a feature number. In all,

45 were identified and mapped in plan view. Only 17 proved to be cultural in origin after testing. Small features, such as postholes, were bisected by removing a block of sediment from one half of the feature that was large enough to expose the feature and at least a few

100 centimeters of surrounding subsoil in profile. Two features (Feature 1 and 4) were large enough to be excavated in quadrants, thus providing profile views along two axes of the feature. The sediment contained in all features was collected for flotation processing, excepting Feature 1, which was partially screened.

101

CHAPTER 5

ARTIFACTS, ANALYSIS PROCEDURES, AND LABORATORY TECHNIQUES

This chapter outlines the procedures and definitions used in processing and analyzing the artifact samples collected at the Strait site. It also presents a brief introduction to the four main material classes collected during the project: fire-cracked rock, pottery, stone tools and related debris, and bone.

Processing the Samples

Rather than sort artifact from non-artifact in the field, where objects were difficult to identify and time for sorting short, approximately 1300 bags containing objects larger than ¼ inch were returned to the laboratory for processing. In the laboratory the objects in each bag were washed by soaking and spraying. First, each bag’s contents were dumped into a window mesh pouch and submerged in a tub of water with a small amount of defloculating agent (Amway L.O.C. Regular Liquid Organic Cleaner). Then, after approximately an hour, the window mesh pouch was removed from the soaking tub and the objects in the pouch were sprayed with fresh water for about 5-10 minutes to remove the defloculating agent and remaining sediment.

102 Once washed and dried, the contents of each bag were sorted into various kinds of artifact classes, including fire-cracked rock, pottery, chipped stone tools and debris, and bone. All tools and potential diagnostic objects (e.g., rim sherds) were also pulled out and placed into their own bags. A label containing provenience information and an FS# was made for each bag. The FS# was useful for cases of transcription error—the original provenience information could be checked in the FS# log. Sorting artifact from non- artifact in the lab allowed me to consistently identify small and unusual objects, many of which would never have been identified in the field because of time constraints and dirt covering the objects. The residuum, or non-artifactual material, left over after lab processing will eventually be discarded or returned to the site.

Flotation samples, at this point only those from select features, were processed using a Flot-tech flotation machine. Care was taken in cleaning the machine when changing from one feature or excavation block to another. Information such as flotation personnel, date processed, and time-in-water was recorded for each processed sample.

Analysis Techniques

Through the excavation of 556 shovel tests, 43.5 m2 of excavation units, and 17 features, over 65,000 artifacts weighing approximately 800 kilograms were recovered during the Strait site project. The primary goal of my analysis is to determine whether or not the horizontal distribution of artifacts at the Strait site is consistent with the distributional pattern of artifacts predicted by the household cluster model presented in

Chapter 2. This household cluster model assumes that the patterns of artifact deposition found at habitation sites result largely from regular, household-scale refuse disposal. This

103 patterned refuse disposal produces accumulations of refuse (artifacts) in five kinds of settings within household space: (1) on dwelling floors, (2) in other (outdoor) activity areas, (3) in provisional discard zones, (4) in formal refuse dumps, (5) within discrete features such as pits, and (6) as scattered objects across the settlement. In this dissertation, I focus on identifying three of these five refuse disposal settings at the Strait site (outdoor activity areas, provisional discard zones, and formal refuse dumps) through an analysis of the spatial distribution of four dimensions of artifact variability: (1) artifact size, (2) artifact density, (3) artifact function (i.e., debris vs. tool), and (4) artifact diversity.

Artifact size is measured across three material classes of artifacts, fire-cracked rock, lithic debitage, and pottery. Five size classes are used: Class 1 (1/4-1/2 inch), Class

2 (1/2-1 inch), Class 3 (1-2 inches), Class 4 (2-3 inches), and Class 5 (3+ inches). Counts for Class 1 fire-cracked rock were not recorded because reliably identifying Class 1 sized objects as fire-cracked rock is difficult and certain kinds of rock (e.g., granites) can fragment into a very large number of Class 1 sized fragments when burned. Therefore, size Class 1 fire-cracked rock is quantified by weight only. The size class data are presented in Chapter 7 as a part of the artifact distributional analysis.

Artifact density, or the frequency of objects per unit space, is examined at two scales. In Chapter 7 each artifact material class (fire-cracked rock, pottery, lithic debris, and bone) is first considered at the scale of the 20 by 20 meter shovel test block.

Presenting the artifact frequency data as bar graphs shows the variability in artifact density per shovel test block. The variability in artifact density is also characterized using a measure of the degree of artifact clustering, which provides a numerical and visual

104 technique for comparing the density of different artifact classes across the 21 shovel test blocks. A third technique for studying artifact density is the visual examination of colored contour maps made using the number of objects per shovel test. Artifact clusters are visually identified based on distinctive density boundaries as depicted in the distribution maps. Artifact density is examined in depth in Chapter 7.

In this analysis artifact function is only considered for lithic artifacts. I use the term function very loosely; the only distinction I make is between lithic debris and lithic tools. Lithic debris has no function, as it is a by-product of lithic tool manufacture and maintenance, and it therefore represents refuse. Lithic tools, including projectile points, bladelets, and retouched flakes, are the only lithic objects that clearly once had a function, and, because lithic tools tend to be used one tool at a time, they are the most likely of all the material classes to have been deposited as primary or de facto refuse

(Schiffer 1972). Thus, the distributions of lithic tool classes may have resulted from a different kind of depositional process than lithic debris and other kinds of refuse. The distribution of lithic tools is examined briefly in this chapter and Chapter 6, with a more in-depth consideration in Chapter 7.

Finally, artifact diversity is a measure of the range of different kinds of artifact classes present across space. In this dissertation I examine the artifact diversity of 20 artifact clusters identified through the analysis of artifact distribution and density. I use the presence or absence of 16 artifact classes, which are a mixture of material type, size, and function classes, to produce a diversity index value for each of the 20 artifact clusters. A diverse artifact cluster, for example, has a wide range of artifact sizes,

105 functions, and material types. The analysis of artifact diversity is presented in the summary of the shovel test distributional analyses in Chapter 7.

Ethnoarchaeological research (e.g., Binford 1978; Deal 1998; DeBoer and

Lathrap 1979; Hayden and Cannon 1983) has found that the three refuse disposal settings, activity areas, provisional discard zones, and formal refuse dumps, can be differentiated by the spatial distribution of artifact diversity, size, density, and function. If present at Strait, each of the three settings of refuse accumulation will appear as artifact clusters with varying properties along these four dimensions of artifact variability.

Artifact Artifact Artifact Artifact Diversity Size Density Function Activity Low Small Low Tools Areas Provisional Tools and Medium All Medium Discard Zones Refuse Formal Refuse Tools and High All High Dumps Refuse

Table 5.1: A matrix demonstrating the relationship between zones of refuse accumulation and artifact variability.

Table 5.1 is a matrix showing the relationship between the three kinds of refuse accumulation areas and the four dimensions of artifact variability. Activity areas are the most difficult refuse disposal settings to identify (Kent 1984). Because activity areas tend to be maintained and kept clean, they will be the least dense of the artifact clusters

(DeBoer and Lathrap 1979; Schiffer 1987). In fact, the activity area itself may contain very little refuse, which is commonly known to occur in settlements where activities

106 produced large amounts of bulky refuse (Kent 1984). Thus, at long-term settlements, activity areas can be identified, in part, by a lack of refuse. The refuse that is left behind in activity areas should be small in size, consisting of the debris missed during cleaning

(DeBoer and Lathrap 1979; Schiffer 1976). This cleaning activity, through size sorting and removal of objects, tends to produce low artifact diversity in activity areas and higher artifact diversity and density in the location in which the collected refuse is deposited.

Activity area refuse is generally deposited adjacent to the activity area in a low traffic, provisional discard zone (Deal 1998; Hayden and Cannon 1983). Provisional discard zones contain refuse and broken and used tools in a state of temporary disposal

(Deal 1998; Hayden and Cannon 1983; LaMotta and Schiffer 1999). The diversity, size, and function of artifacts in provisional discard zones is dependent on the kinds of activities that took place nearby—the more diverse the nearby activities, the greater the range of refuse and tool types that are deposited in the nearby provisional discard zones.

In general, provisional discard zones will have a wider range of artifact sizes and materials, and thus higher artifact diversity, than nearby activity areas. However, provisional discard zones will be smaller and have less artifact diversity than formal refuse dumps.

According to the household cluster model, formal refuse dumps are loci of repeated dumping of refuse generated in the household’s activity areas and temporarily stored in provisional discard zones. As such, formal refuse dumps, assuming they occur on the surface, are generally the largest and most diverse concentrations of artifacts (i.e., artifact clusters) in a settlement composed of one or more household clusters (Wilson

1994). While refuse dumps may contain more tools than activity areas or provisional

107 discard zones, I posit that the tool to refuse ratio may be smaller in refuse dumps as compared to activity areas and provisional discard zones because refuse dumps contain such a high frequency of other objects.

Four material classes of artifacts are considered in this analysis: fire-cracked rock, pottery, lithics, and bone. In the following sections each of these material classes is defined and considered in greater detail. Chapter 7 presents a distributional analysis of these material classes.

Fire-cracked Rock

Fire-cracked rock (FCR) is one of the most numerous artifact classes found on archaeology sites. It is formed through the repeated or rapid heating and cooling of many kinds of rock, including igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rocks (Zurel 1982). The use of rock for heating food through boiling and in earth ovens has been documented for contact–period Native American groups in many regions of North America (Driver and

Massey 1957).

In a study of FCR from an archaeology site in northeast Minnesota, Rapp et al.

(1999:74) suggest that Woodland period FCR is formed in five ways:

(1) from natural fires, (2) from an association with hearths, earth ovens, or firepits, (3) from use as boiling stones, (4) from heating to increase the workability for manufacturing stone tools, and (5) from the comminution of granitic rocks to make temper for pottery clays.

108 Except for their third way, from use as boiling stones, Rapp et al.’s FCR production processes are probably the primary ways in which FCR was formed at the Strait site.

While stone boiling for the purposes of cooking may have occurred at Strait, it was probably used to a much lesser degree than direct-heat cooking. It is generally recognized in the Midwest U.S. that the thinner pottery vessels common to the Middle Woodland period were used for direct-heat cooking rather than stone boiling (Braun 1983, 1987;

Brown 1989).

The FCR from the Strait site was size-sorted, counted, and weighed by provenience. For this dissertation, FCR is identified by its color (sometimes rock becomes reddened) and characteristic fracture pattern. Unlike unburned rocks, which typically have smooth surfaces from weathering and contact with water, FCR has highly angular surfaces. A size-sorted sample of FCR appears in Figure B.29. A detailed analysis of the kinds of rock used for FCR at Strait is beyond the scope of this dissertation. Nevertheless, the bulk of the FCR fragments are sandstone and granite. The larger pieces of FCR (Size Class 2-5) were readily identifiable. However, the smallest pieces (Size Class 1) were much more difficult to identify consistently. Consequently,

Size Class 1 FCR fragments were only weighed and not counted.

Pottery

Pottery includes all fired clay objects that contain particles of temper, differentiating it from daub, which lacks temper. A wide range of temper types was used in the production of the Strait site pottery, including grit (granitic rock particles), flint,

109 limestone, and grog. An intensive study of ceramic paste composition and pottery sherd thickness is beyond the scope of this dissertation. Nevertheless, the vast majority of pottery sherds collected from Strait are grit-tempered. No complete vessels were found.

Of the 100 rim sherds found during the project, only 15 are large enough to provide accurate rim profiles (Fig. B.30). Half of the rims in Figure B.30 are inslanted to incurvate and the other half are outslanted to excurvate. Only one angled shoulder sherd has been found at the Strait site, and it was collected during the 1983 surface collection.

Cordmarked Plain Decorated Unknown Shovel Testsa 62.1% 11.9% 0.1% 25.9% Block and Unit 65% 9.7% 0.3% 25% Excavationb a – Shovel Tests (Size Classes 2-5): n=1021 b – Block and Unit Excavation (Size Classes 2-5): n=2727

Table 5.2: Pottery surface treatment relative frequency.

Surface treatment was also recorded for all pottery sherds in size Classes 2-5.

Table 5.2 compares the surface treatment relative frequency from the shovel tests and the excavation unit blocks. These two sampling techniques produced very similar results.

The majority of the sherds from Strait have exterior cordmarking. A quarter of the sherds are too damaged to determine their surface treatment. Approximately 10 percent have plain exterior surfaces, and less than 1 percent are decorated. While the Strait site pottery assemblage is close in age and location to the pottery assemblage from the Murphy site in

110 Licking County (which dates to the early second century A.D. [Dancey 1991]), it is distinctly different from the Murphy pottery assemblage in terms of surface treatment.

Nearly all of the sherds from the Murphy site were plain surfaced (Dancey 1991).

A comparison of Strait pottery assemblage with the McGraw site, a fourth to fifth century A.D. habitation site in Ross County, Ohio shows a number of similarities between the two assemblages. The Strait site rims are fairly consistent with the McGraw

Cordmarked and McGraw Plain rim profiles from the McGraw site (Prufer 1965) and other, late Hopewell sites in Ohio (Prufer 1968). Furthermore, the surface treatment of the McGraw site pottery (75.4% cordmarked and 24.6% plain) is similar in relative frequency to the surface treatment of the Strait site pottery.

A number of rare ceramic and modeled clay objects found during this investigation are shown in Figure B.31. These include a possible ceramic pipe fragment

(Fig. B.31, a), three possible figurine fragments (Fig. B.31, b-d), three body sherds with possible Hopewell decorations (Fig. B.31, e-g), three rim sherds with lip treatments unusual for the third century A.D. (Fig. B.31, h-j), and one body sherd with 5 small, interior nodes (Fig. B.31, k). The lip treatments on the B.31, h and j rim sherds are unlike

Middle Woodland period lip treatments described for Ohio pottery by Prufer (1965,

1968), but they are nearly identical to Hopewell rim sherds from the Marksville site in southern Louisiana (Toth 1974, Fig. 44). A more in-depth analysis of the Strait site pottery must be performed first before the significance of these lip treatments can be fully evaluated.

111 Lithics

The lithic analysis was devised to identify lithic tools and basic lithic reduction trends across the site. Lithic debitage, the lithic debris generated during flintknapping, is divided into complete flakes, flake fragments, and shatter (i.e., debris) following the debris discriminations of Sullivan and Rozen (1985). All objects were size-sorted, counted, and weighed.

Sullivan and Rozen’s (1985) formal approach is an attempt to identify assemblage-level trends in debris attributes that can be used to identify the presence of core versus biface reduction. Unlike Sullivan and Rozen (1985), I classify large blocks with irregular flake removal scars as cores and include them in the debitage category.

While Sullivan and Rozen define debitage analysis as “…the systematic study of chipped stone artifacts that are not cores or tools…” (1985:755), the cores from the Strait site are few and essentially large blocks of shatter.

The Sullivan and Rozen (1985) approach has been criticized and praised since its publication (see Shott 1994 for a brief review), making uncritical use of their approach problematic. However, a number of researchers (e.g., Magne [1989] and Mange and

Pokotylo [1981]) have shown that one aspect of the Sullivan and Rozen approach, the higher degree of shatter production during core and early stage biface manufacture, is useful for studying debris assemblages. Based on the work of Magne (1989) and Magne and Pokotylo (1981), I assume that shatter frequency and density will increase in areas where core reduction was increasingly prevalent relative to biface production and maintenance. Because pieces of shatter tend to be very small, they are more likely to be left behind after cleaning than larger debris.

112 The presence or absence of cortex on the lithic debitage was also noted to identify the possible use of locally available, glacial cobbles of chert. Admittedly, given the great abundance of nearby chert sources that typically lack cortex, as many are bedded cherts

(e.g., Flint Ridge and Upper Mercer), there should be very little use of poorer quality raw materials covered by cortex. In fact, cortex was found on so few pieces of lithic debitage that its presence is negligible.

In addition to the debris analysis, I also identify three kinds of chipped stone tools in the lithic assemblage: bladelets, retouched and utilized flakes, and projectile points.

Following Greber et al. (1981), Hopewell bladelets are parallel-sided flakes at least twice as long as wide with long, parallel dorsal ridges. The top row in Figure B.32 is a selection of bladelets from the Strait site. A total of 435 bladelets and bladelet fragments were found at Strait during this research, not including possible fragments still contained in unprocessed flotation samples. Only 48 bladelets are complete. Many of the complete and fragmented bladelets exhibit retouch and use damage, although a systematic study of bladelet use was not performed. Just three fragmented bladelet cores were found during my research at the Strait site. Additional bladelet cores were found during the 1983 surface surveys.

In addition to bladelets, large flakes were also used as tools by the Strait site inhabitants. Utilized and retouched flake tools exhibit macroscopic retouch and use- damage along their margins. As shown in Figure B.32, some flakes are retouched or damaged along the entire length of both margins and others are only retouched or damaged in select areas. Utilized and retouched flakes account for 126 of the flake tools found during my research.

113 The vast majority (n=103) of projectile points found at Strait have shallow side- notched or expanding stem haft elements that can be assigned to Justice’s (1987) Lowe

Cluster. The projectile points shown in Figure B.33 are typical of those found at Strait and demonstrate the range of projectile resharpening—most projectiles exhibit some degree of resharpening at Strait. Many different kinds of Lowe Cluster projectile fragments were recovered during the shovel testing. Figure B.34 shows 11 modes of projectile point fracture. The distribution of the modes of fracture found during the shovel testing are presented in Figure B.35. Only fracture mode 5 is yet to be found at Strait; the other modes of fracture are spread across the shovel tested area. Haft elements, modes 6-

9, are the most common type of projectile point fragment. In addition to projectile point fragment, 116 biface fragments representing earlier stage biface production were also found.

Very few groundstone objects were recovered from the Strait site. These include gorget fragments (n=3), axe or celt fragments (n=6), and pitted stones (n=7). Figure B.36 shows a selection of the groundstone objects. Chipped slate discoids, an artifact type commonly found on early Late Woodland village sites (Allman 1967; Dancey 1988;

Seeman and Dancey 2000), were also found during the 1983 surface surveys.

Bone Bone remains are sparse at the Strait site and, as demonstrated in Chapter 7, they are very limited in their distribution. Of the 1478 (676.7 g) fragments and whole elements recovered, 1019 are small, calcined fragments. In a study of a small sample (n=203) of bones from Strait, Lee and Pederson (1999) determined that 6.8% of the fragments were

114 identifiable to the family level. They identified two vertebrate classes and one worked piece of bone. While an in-depth analysis of the bone from the Strait site has yet to occur,

I have observed the remains of fish, turtle, deer, and other small mammals. The deer bone fragments minimally include elements such as long bone fragments, complete anklebones

(e.g., astragali), and mandible fragments. No human remains have been identified at

Strait.

Flotation Samples and Botanical Remains

Numerous flotation samples were collected from the block excavations and the features in an effort to recover small bones and paleoethnobotanical specimens. In fact, except for Feature 1, all feature fill was collected for flotation processing. Completing the flotation processing and the paleoethnobotanical analysis was beyond the scope of this dissertation. Nevertheless, preliminary results of the paleoethnobotanical analysis show the presence of burned hickory nutshell across much of the site. The analysis to date has also identified two kinds of seeds: knotweed (Polygonum spp.) and sunflower

(Helianthus annus). In addition to nutshell and seeds, wood charcoal is also present in large quantities.

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CHAPTER 6

CHRONOLOGY AT THE STRAIT SITE

Introduction

In this chapter I briefly discuss the chronological position of the Strait site relative to other Middle-Late Woodland period occupations in the Middle Ohio Valley. Two kinds of chronological measures indicate that the artifacts from the Strait site were deposited during a single occupation episode, radiocarbon dates and temporally diagnostic artifacts. The site’s artifact assemblage is an unusual mix of temporally diagnostic objects, some from the Middle Woodland and some from the early Late

Woodland period. However, the radiocarbon dates indicate that the Strait site occupation took place during the third century A.D.

Radiocarbon Dates A series of four radiocarbon dates acquired as a part of this project (Table 6.1) indicate that the Strait site remains were deposited in the third century A.D. When calibrated, these dates all overlap within their two sigma ranges.

116 C14 Age Calibrated 2 Sigma Carbonized Lab # Sigma Context RCYBP Intercept Range Material Beta- Feat. 4, Pit 1820 40 A.D. 223 A.D. 4-321 Hickory Nutshell 147063 Feature Beta- Feat. 4, Pit Wood and 1650 50 A.D. 412 A.D. 258-537 147064 Feature Hickory Nutshell Beta- A.D. 258, 283, Feat. 16, Wood and 1750 70 A.D. 132-415 147065 287, 300, 320 Posthole Hickory Nutshell Beta- Feat. 1, Pit Wood and 1820 100 A.D. 223 A.D. 38-426 147066 Feature Hickory Nutshell a – calibrations based on Stuiver et al. 1998

Table 6.1: Radiocarbon dates obtained from the Strait site.

An effort was made to send as much carbonized nutshell for dating as possible. However, it was necessary to send wood charcoal along with three of the samples. Wood charcoal, along with low sample weight, may account for the larger error factors for three of the dates (Beta-147064, 147065, and 147066).

Three of the dates are associated with a structure found in Excavation Block 2.

Feature 4 is a shallow pit feature found on the inside of the structure. This feature contained large amounts of carbonized hickory nutshell, as well as cordmarked pottery, bladelets, and Lowe Cluster (Justice 1987) projectile points. Feature 16 is probably an interior support post, the fill of which contained few artifacts besides carbonized wood and hickory nutshell. Feature 1 is a shallow pit found in Excavation Block 1. It too contained bladelet fragments and Lowe Cluster projectile points, as well as thick, cordmarked pottery. Feature 1 may also be located inside a structure, based on evidence presented in Chapter 7.

117 Pottery

Very few of the potsherds found at the Strait site are temporally diagnostic. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the surface treatment of the Strait site pottery is more consistent with the fourth-fifth century A.D. McGraw site than it is with the early second century A.D. Murphy site. Only four sherds were found that are typical of Hopewell decorated pottery. The thin, everted rim shown in Figure B.30 (o) may represent a

Hopewell decorated vessel, such as Prufer’s (1968) Turner Simple -stamped B type. A few possible simple-stamped body sherds were also found, though none of these were clearly simple-stamped. Three other decorated sherds, one cross-hatched (Fig. B.31, e) and two rocker-stamped (Fig. B.31, f-g), are typical of the Middle Woodland period. The one unusual sherd with five small nodes shown in Figure B.31 (k) was found in Feature

4, which produced two late Middle Woodland period radiocarbon dates (see Table 6.1).

Some of the Strait site pottery attributes are more commonly found in early and middle Late Woodland period contexts. One small, angled shoulder sherd was found in the plowed portion of the site in 1983. Angled shoulder sherds are a common attribute found on Newtown Cordmarked vessels in southern Ohio (McMichael 1984) and they have been found at many early Late Woodland period nucleated settlements dating between the sixth and eighth centuries A.D. (see Table 1.1.). Most of the rim sherds found at Strait are cordmarked up to the lip on their exteriors. At least three (Fig. B.31, h- j) also show some kind of incised or impressed lip treatment. Cordmarking to the lip and incisions or impressions on the lip are common to the middle Late Woodland period in the nearby Muskingum Valley (Morton 1989). However, as noted in the previous chapter,

118 Middle Woodland period rim sherds with nearly identical rim treatments as those shown in Figure B.31 (h-j) are known from the Lower Valley (Toth 1974).

Two other common attributes of Late Woodland period pottery, interior cordmarking just below the lip and cord-wrapped dowel impressions on the lip or upper exterior rim

(Morton 1989; Seeman 1992b), have not been identified at the Strait site.

Stone Tools

Two kinds of stone tools at Strait indicate a Middle-Late Woodland period occupation of the site: bladelets and projectile points. Bladelets are a commonly cited

“index fossil” of Middle Woodland period Hopewell deposits (Carskadden and Morton

1996; Greber et al. 1981). They first appear early in the Middle Woodland period and persist up into the sixth century A.D. (Greber 1983), based on calibrated radiocarbon dates (Stuiver et al. 1998). However, bladelets are absent from most early Late Woodland period nucleated settlements, such as at the sixth century A.D. Water Plant site (Dancey

1992).

The dominant projectile point types found at Strait are consistent with Justice’s

(1987) Lowe Cluster types. The projectile points shown in Figure B.37 exhibit the full range of haft element variability for Lowe Cluster types, from weak side notching to expanding and flared bases. These projectile points are known to date from about A.D.

300 to A.D. 700 (Justice 1987). Lowe cluster projectile points are commonly found in large numbers at both late Middle Woodland period dispersed settlements and early Late

Woodland period nucleated settlements (see Table 1.2).

119 Eight projectile points from earlier and later time periods were also found mixed in with the third century A.D. deposit at Strait (Fig. B.38). These projectiles were fashioned in the Middle Archaic, Late Archaic, and Late Prehistoric time periods (Justice

1987). Given the wide distribution of these objects across the site, it is unlikely that occupations from any other time periods besides the late Middle Woodland period are significantly represented in the Strait site artifact assemblage. In fact, it is possible that the pre-Middle Woodland period projectile points were collected and brought back to the site in the third century A.D. This ancient collecting behavior is known from other

Middle Woodland period sites. Archaic objects have been found in Middle Woodland period deposits at the Hopewell Mound Group (Shetrone 1926) in Ross County, for example.

The Distribution of Chronological Indicators

When considered together, Middle Woodland period objects are widely distributed across the Strait site. The Figure B.39 map shows the distribution of bladelet and Lowe Cluster projectile point frequency per shovel test. The locations of other

Hopewell objects, such as decorated pottery, quartz crystal debitage, and a copper celt, are also indicated. Not one of the 20 by 20 meter shovel test sampling strata was without some kind of late Middle Woodland period artifact. The widespread distribution of these chronological indicators support the position taken in this dissertation that the Strait site occupation occurred during one episode in the third century A.D.

120

CHAPTER 7

RESEARCH RESULTS: DISTRIBUTIONAL ANALYSES AND THE LOCATION OF POTENTIAL HOUSEHOLD CLUSTERS AT STRAIT

Introduction

As discussed in Chapter 2, household clusters are generally composed of one or more structures (e.g., dwellings), various activity and storage areas, and one or more kinds of refuse dumping zones. Different combinations of objects (refuse) are typically found in each of the different areas of the household cluster. During their occupation, houses and activity areas contain tools and raw materials for specific tasks but hazardous debris is kept to a minimum through cleaning. Consequently, artifact assemblages from activity areas have a low diversity of artifact types, including tools and the small debris imbedded in the ground or missed during cleaning. Formal refuse dumps, on the other hand, represent a catchall area where hazardous, broken, and unusable objects are dumped. These areas of a household cluster should have the highest diversity of artifact types and sizes and a high concentration of hazardous (large, sharp, and/or undesirable) debris. The unplowed context at the Strait site represents a unique opportunity to measure

121 site structure vis-"-vis the distribution of bulk waste (i.e., refuse) in an effort to define household clusters.

In this chapter I present the results of the fieldwork conducted at the Strait site.

Using the methods outlined in Chapter 5, my primary goal is to determine whether or not the horizontal distribution of artifacts at the Strait site is consistent with the distributional pattern of artifacts predicted by the household cluster model (see Chapter 2). The household cluster model assumes that the patterns of artifact deposition at habitation sites result from regular, household-scale refuse disposal (Schiffer 1972). This patterned refuse disposal produces accumulations of refuse (artifacts) in five kinds of settings within household space: (1) on dwelling floors, (2) in other (outdoor) activity areas, (3) in provisional discard zones, (4) in formal refuse dumps, (5) within discrete features such as pits, and (6) as objects scattered across the settlement. I use the results of the shovel test survey to identify three of these five refuse disposal settings at the Strait site (outdoor activity areas, provisional discard zones, and formal refuse dumps) through an analysis of the spatial distribution of four dimensions of artifact variability: (1) artifact size, (2) artifact density, (3) artifact function (i.e., debris vs. tool), and (4) artifact diversity.

The results of this analysis show that the unplowed area at the Strait site contains

20 concentrations of artifacts. My analysis of debris and tool diversity leads me to conclude that the 20 artifact clusters revealed by my excavations are the remains of 4-5 household clusters. Data obtained through additional tests, including geophysical survey, block and unit excavation, and surface survey in the surrounding agricultural field, are consistent with the hypothesis that the archaeological deposit at the Strait site contains household clusters.

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Shovel Testing

The shovel testing program at Strait recovered nearly 20,000 objects. Raw frequencies and weights of selected artifact classes are presented in Table 7.1. Much variability is apparent from one block to another in most of the artifact classes. Most of this variability is related to patterns of cultural deposition, but some of it is the result of the number of shovel tests actually excavated in each block. Because some blocks covered less than 400 m2 and some randomly chosen shovel test locations were impossible to dig (e.g., because of the presence of trees and tree roots, or the coincident location of two randomly chosen sets of coordinates), the number of samples (i.e., shovel tests) per block is somewhat variable. To standardize the data per shovel test block, I use a multiplication factor to estimate what the frequencies would be if all 30 tests had been excavated. The multiplication factor is derived by dividing the number of tests actually completed into 30, the maximum number of possible tests. For example, in a block where

30 tests were excavated, the multiplication factor is 1 and in a block of 22 the multiplication factor is 1.36. This produces the same result as dividing the frequency of objects in an artifact class by the number of tests performed in that particular block

(which provides an average number of objects found per shovel test) and then multiplying by 30. Tables containing raw counts of objects found per shovel test block are provided in Appendix A.

123 Sample Block Debitage Debitage Weight (g) Bladelets Flake Tools Projectile Point Frags Pottery Sherds Pottery Weight (g) Bone Weight(g) Bone Rock Fire-cracked (g) FCR Weight Groundstone 1 541 456.5 15 6 1 261 250.8 0 0 915 15938.3 1 2 463 342.4 8 2 3 290 438.6 0 0 123 6986.7 0 3 343 300.3 5 6 1 204 242.7 3 0.3 394 10918.1 0 4 488 317.2 16 3 4 267 382.1 0 0 750 22833.9 0 5 594 364.2 4 3 2 116 180.6 0 0 90 2960.9 2 6 432 263.5 7 3 1 182 309.9 1 0.2 471 15388.3 0 7 125 98.2 1 1 0 12 18.3 0 0 72 1717.5 0 8 179 200.3 4 1 1 16 11.9 0 0 0 0 0

124 9 858 608.8 8 4 4 398 592.3 0 0 162 7738.1 0 10 43 26 0 0 0 1 0.6 0 0 16 258.1 0 11 73 40.2 2 0 0 48 40.6 1 0.3 60 1253.4 0 12 647 464.7 6 7 3 204 251.2 57 20.1 356 11767.3 0 13 1164 1294.6 36 12 5 720 997.6 147 46.8 1334 33487.7 1 14 196 122.8 2 1 0 25 59.4 0 0 109 2825.1 1 15 319 379.6 7 3 3 348 489.7 0 0 651 15050.7 0 16 91 82.3 6 5 0 89 63.6 0 0 371 11075 1 17 341 260.1 9 2 2 218 157.7 0 0 457 7746.5 1 18 105 182.5 0 1 0 55 31.7 0 0 397 6226.9 0 19 214 382.2 3 3 1 178 186.9 0 0 409 6841.2 1 20 82 58.5 1 1 1 8 7.1 0 0 284 7427.2 1 21 215 155.7 6 4 1 85 83.6 0 0 466 9524.8 0 Total 7513 6400.6 146 68 33 3725 4796.9 209 67.7 7887 197965.7 9

Table 7.1: Frequencies of select artifact classes per shovel test block.

This chapter presents a distributional analysis of four material classes found in the study area: fire-cracked rock, pottery, lithic debris and tools, and bone. Distributional patterns are identified at two scales (per 20 by 20 block and continuously across the tested area) using two data presentation techniques: (1) through comparisons of standardized, numerical data presented in tabular form with select graphs to demonstrate data trends and (2) through visually comparing artifact density maps of the tested area.

Clustering is identified both visually and arithmetically. Intuitive density thresholds are used to identify clustered versus non-clustered areas in the density maps. Though the visual identification of clusters is not a mathematically robust way to identify the presence or edges of artifact clusters (Kroll and Price 1991; Johnson 1984), it works well for this initial attempt at evaluating the fit between the Strait site data and the expectations of the household cluster model. The importance of artifact clustering is discussed with the presentation of each material type.

Fire-Cracked Rock

Fire-cracked rock (FCR) is the most abundant artifact class recovered during the shovel test excavations (Table 7.1). Across all 21 shovel test blocks 7887 fragments from size Classes 2-5 were collected. Table 7.2 presents a summary of the standardized FCR counts found in each shovel test block (see Table A.1 for raw counts). In Figure B.40 the

FCR counts per shovel test block are shown summarized in bar graph form. When ranked according to total number (standardized) of FCR Class 2-5 pieces per block, the distribution shows a logarithmic trend from greatest to smallest number per block. No modal tendencies are obvious. Eight of the 21 blocks have greater than 422 pieces of

125 FCR, the mean for all blocks, per 30 shovel tests. Not surprisingly, these eight blocks contain discrete concentrations of FCR when the data are viewed as distribution maps.

The FCR clusters are most concentrated in the first six of these frequency-ordered 8 blocks (13, 1, 4, 3, 15, and 17).

In Figure B.41 the amount of Size Class 2-5 FCR found in each shovel test is displayed in a shaded contour map of the tested area. In addition to the observations made based on the data displayed in the Figure B.40 bar graph, this distribution map shows that very little FCR was found outside of the high-density clusters. The clusters in Blocks 3,

6, 13, and 15 have very abrupt boundaries. If FCR can be assumed to be a hazardous material and to have a high hindrance value (Hayden and Cannon 1983), then its distribution fits with the expectations of the household cluster model—objects with a high hindrance value should be clustered in refuse dumps rather than scattered about household cluster space.

If FCR was cleaned out of hearths, earth ovens, and other kinds of thermal features on a regular basis, then all size classes should appear in similar places. The distribution of Size Class 1 FCR is shown in Figure B.42. Of all the size classes of FCR, this class would logically be the one to be most widely spread (i.e., ignored during cleaning activities) as it is the least hazardous and most difficult to collect during cleaning. While this size class of FCR was difficult to differentiate from natural rocks during analysis, and hence the most prone to exhibit errors in identification, in the following figures it is plain that the distribution of Size Class 1 FCR closely matches the peak concentrations of the larger classes. Interestingly, it is notably absent from the main concentration of FCR in Block 13.

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Sample Block Class 1 Weight (g) (g) Weight 1 Class Class 2 (g) Weight Class 3 (g) Weight Class 4 (g) Weight Class 5 (g) Weight Frequency Total (g) Weight 1 620.7 706 3814.2 295.3 10673.3 13.3 1776.8 1.1 806.5 1015.7 17691.5 2 0.7 59.8 513.1 92.5 3999.9 10.9 2170.4 4.1 2817.8 167.3 9501.9 3 70.9 329 2287.6 353.4 11709.8 58.3 6457.8 0 0 740.7 20526 4 426.6 492.8 2798.1 298.6 10830.6 31.1 5206.1 10 6084.4 832.5 25345.6 5 3.9 52.5 351 36.1 1148.7 3.1 467.4 1 1078.7 92.7 3049.7 6 80.8 245.3 1942.8 253.1 9965.5 22.2 3938.7 2.2 1153.2 522.8 17081 7 8.8 42.2 272.4 35.5 1177.4 2.2 447.9 0 0 79.9 1906.4 8 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 9 11.9 66.6 462.5 96.6 4167.6 13.3 1945.7 3.3 2001.6 179.8 8589.3

127 10 2.1 11.3 100.8 8.8 219.8 0 0 0 0 20 322.6 11 11.7 34 280.1 26.8 910.5 1 88.7 0 0 61.8 1291 12 15.3 163 1213.2 180 6593.1 11 1783.3 2 2162.4 356 11767.3 13 84 671 4814.5 624 22024.2 37 5326.6 2 1238.4 1334 33487.7 14 2.8 101.2 828.9 142.6 4928.2 6.9 737.8 0 0 250.7 6497.7 15 271.1 387.3 2267.3 264.7 9564.2 17.5 2933.1 1 466.5 670.5 15502.2 16 150.1 217 1316.5 146 4917.5 6 1060.8 2 3630.1 371 11075 17 243.6 400 2385.9 161.3 5153 10 1900.6 0 0 571.3 9683.1 18 226 274 1473.3 117 3469.2 6 1058.4 0 0 397 6226.9 19 208.9 284 1626.2 117 3631.3 7 931 1 443.8 409 6841.2 20 103 201.9 1227.2 83.4 2869.4 5.2 904.9 2.1 2545.5 292.5 7650 21 104.6 317.8 1972.2 171.2 5377.4 7.5 1402.9 2.1 1334.4 498.6 10191.5 Total 2647.4 5056.7 31947.9 3503.7 123330.4 269.5 40538.9 34 25763.2 8863.8 224227.9

Table 7.2: Standardized fire-cracked rock frequency per shovel test block.

Figure B.43 shows the distribution of the remaining FCR size classes. Size

Classes 2 and 3 are very closely matched in their distribution. Apparent changes occur as we move from Class 3 to the larger classes of FCR. While large FCR is present in most of the main concentrations, it seems to peak in two new areas not as noticeable in the other maps: along the western edge of shovel test Block 3 and in the northeastern corner of Block 13. Both may be instances where the shovel tests encountered buried pit features, which have a much different content than the midden and refuse dumps around them. Also of note, the FCR concentration in shovel test Block 1 disappears when only the large-sized pieces are considered.

In summary, fire-cracked rock is clearly patterned in its distribution across the shovel tested area at Strait. Dense clusters are present in six of the 21 tested blocks. Some of these clusters contain a very large amount of FCR. For example, if the 12 shovel tests

(0.71 % sample) excavated in the cluster found in Block 13 are a representative sample, then that cluster contains a projected 3,200 kilograms (3.5 tons) of size Class 2-5 fire- cracked rock. If a fist-sized cobble weighs about 500 grams, as many do at Strait, then this cluster would contain FCR fragments from approximately 6400 such cobbles.

Not all of the clusters contain the same array of FCR size classes. In Figure B.44 the FCR clusters are divided into a range of cluster types based on the presence or absence of the 5 size classes. Only three of the clusters seem to contain all size classes, which is somewhat apparent in the Figure B.43 distribution map. Not readily apparent in

Figure B.40 or Table 7.2 are those clusters that do not contain all size classes of FCR.

Five of these occur in the northeast area of the shovel test blocks and are populated by small FCR only. A second type of cluster contains small and medium sized (Classes 1-3)

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FCR, and a third contains medium-to-larger sized (Classes 3-4) FCR. These clusters are located along the west edge of the tested area. Perhaps most interestingly, the largest FCR pieces do not, for the most part, co-occur with the major clusters. Instead, they occur along the cluster edges and in arcing arrangements in various areas, as in Blocks 2 and 6.

Later in this chapter these edge areas, at least near the two large clusters containing all

FCR size classes in Blocks 3 and 13, will be revealed as the location of structures. With this in mind, perhaps the largest pieces of FCR are located in what Hayden and Cannon

(1983) refer to as a toft zone, a provisional discard zone between the garbage dump and the house where potentially useful objects are stored. Similar arcs of larger objects were noted by DeBoer and Lathrap (1979) along the edges of activity areas at Shipibo-Conibo sites.

Pottery

The pottery assemblage accumulated during shovel testing (n=3747) is significantly smaller than the amount of recovered fire-cracked rock. Table 7.3 provides standardized breakdowns of the number of sherds found per shovel test by size class

(Table A.2 contains the raw counts of pottery sherds per shovel test block). As with fire- cracked rock, there is much variability in pottery sherd count and weight when comparing the tested blocks. However, without the processing treatment used during this study (i.e., bringing all objects back to the lab for washing and sorting), most of the sherds found during shovel testing (i.e., size Class 1 sherds) would have been missed in the field.

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Sample Block Size Class 1 (g) Weight Size Class 2 (g) Weight Size Class 3 (g) Weight Size Class 4 (g) Weight Frequency Total (g) Weight 1 233.1 124.8 55.5 114.6 2.2 25.8 0 0 290.8 265.2 2 254.3 151.6 133 256.8 9.5 95.6 0 0 396.8 504 3 282 160.6 99.6 99.5 7.5 108.9 0 0 389.1 369 4 223.1 127.4 64.4 164.1 8.9 114.6 0 0 296.4 406.1 5 75.2 50.9 43.3 86.5 1 19.7 1 21.7 120.5 178.8 6 119.9 67.4 73.3 176.2 8.9 81 0 0 202.1 324.6 7 10 6.3 3.3 3.5 1.1 7.9 0 0 14.4 17.7 8 12.4 4.4 4.1 7.6 0 0 0 0 16.5 12 9 300.8 175.9 128 262.1 13.3 148.6 1.1 41.9 443.2 628.5 10 1.3 0.8 0 0 0 0 0 0 1.3 0.8 130 11 18.5 9.6 29.9 23 1 8.5 0 0 49.4 41.1 12 152 87.2 47 116.2 5 47.8 0 0 204 251.2 13 511 292.2 204 513.7 14 184.5 1 6.2 730 996.6 14 25.3 16.79 29.9 27.3 4.6 54.7 0 0 59.8 98.8 15 261.6 135.3 88.6 252.4 8.2 109.1 0 0 358.4 496.8 16 72 33.5 17 30.1 0 0 0 0 89 63.6 17 227.5 100.1 46.3 78.6 0 0 0 0 273.8 178.7 18 49 21.8 6 9.9 0 0 0 0 55 31.7 19 142 73.5 36 99.6 1 13.8 0 0 179 186.9 20 6.2 2.9 2.1 4.3 0 0 0 0 8.3 7.2 21 68.48 36.5 21.4 40.3 1.1 9.8 0 0 90.9 86.6 Total 3045.6 1679.5 1132.5 2694.7 87.4 1030.3 3.1 69.9 4268.7 5145.9

Table 7.3: Standardized pottery frequency by size class per shovel test block.

In Figure B.45 the standardized pottery data are presented in bar graph form.

Clearly, Class 1 sherds dominate the counts from each block. Besides being less than a half inch in diameter, many of the sherds from this size class lack one or both of their surfaces, making this some of the most fragmented pottery that can be found in an archaeological context. Most pottery studies ignore these sherds (smaller than 2 cm in diameter) because of the difficulty in consistently identifying their temper and/or surface treatment. Many archaeologists have correctly suggested that weight is perhaps a better measure of pottery abundance than sherd counts (Hawkins 1996; Solheim 1960; Chase

1985). This is especially true when performing ceramic classifications of vessel form and type using sherds. Some types and vessel forms fragment at different rates and therefore produce varying numbers of sherds. For my research the primary goal is to identify settlement structure by locating important components of household clusters. In this kind of study, basic sherd counts suffice. Nevertheless, Figure B.46 shows the distribution of pottery weight by size class for the shovel test blocks. While changes do occur in the rank order of blocks with the most to the least amount of pottery, it is basically the same set of blocks for weight and count that are above the average for the area tested. Not unexpectedly, the blocks with more pottery are the same blocks that contained large amounts of fire-cracked rock.

While data on attributes such as surface treatment and temper type are hard to acquire from size Class 1 sherds, the presence of these small sherds and their distributions is meaningful. Minimally, their frequency is an indication of the amount of weathering the pottery assemblage has experienced, either during site occupation or at some point thereafter. More on the implications of pottery sherd fragmentation is

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discussed below. But first, the pottery distribution maps are presented as they too shed light on the importance of pottery fragmentation at Strait.

Pottery sherds are perhaps as highly clustered at Strait as fire-cracked rock. In

Figure B.47 a number of distinctive clusters are evident in eight of the shovel test blocks

(1-4, 9, 13, 15, and 19). In fact, these clusters account for nearly all of the pottery found during shovel testing. Only two pottery clusters, toward the middle of shovel test Block 2 and along the southern edge of shovel test Block 9, do not correspond to an FCR cluster.

But, like the patterning of fire-cracked rock, there is little difference in the distribution of sherds of varying size, as shown in Figure B.48. About the only variability in size class distribution are the locations of the larger sherds. While some of these were found in the heart of high-density clusters, and therefore could represent secondary discard behaviors soon after vessel breakage, most are located near the edges of clusters and in between clusters. These areas with larger sherds may represent low traffic areas where provisional refuse is stored or places where objects with remnant use-life are kept, such as toft zones.

Similar observations have been made at settlements from various parts of the world (e.g.,

Central America [Deal 1998; Hayden and Aubrey 1983] and South America [DeBoer and

Lathrap 1979]), but in the Central American cases, for example, the pottery was much less fragmented and nearly complete vessels were stored in these toft zones. Larger sherds at the edges of high-density clusters may also represent the final dumping episodes to take place prior to site abandonment.

Figure B.49 is an attempt to show the distribution and degree of pottery fragmentation across the shovel tested area at Strait. The degree of pottery fragmentation was calculated by dividing the total weight of sherds from a shovel test by the total sherd

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count in that shovel test. Thus, the degree of fragmentation measure used here represents the average sherd weight for each shovel test. One might expect the degree of fragmentation maps to match the distribution of small sherds, but a comparison of the size Class 1 sherd distribution map (Fig. B.48) with Figure B.49 shows that the areas with the smallest sherds are also the areas where sherds are only somewhat fragmented

(Fragmentation value of ca. 1.4-2.8). Importantly, these lower fragmentation rates extend into intercluster space, matching the location of size Class 3 and 4 sherds. In essence,

Figure B.49 represents a different technique for showing the distribution of sherd size across the site, one that is more affected by areas with lower density sherd counts. What these sherd fragmentation patterns might mean is difficult to interpret.

Pottery fragmentation rate and distribution is affected by many pre- and post-site- abandonment processes (Deal 1998), including climatic variation and factors of paste composition (Reid 1984), vessel form and function variability (Orton et al. 1993), varying use across space (Solheim 1984), and comminution through trampling (DeBoer and Lathrap 1979; Nielsen 1991; Solheim 1984). Sherd fragmentation at Strait could be the result of climatic weathering processes, such as freeze-thaw, but that would not explain why many larger sherds in the same archaeological context have survived intact.

Differences in pottery usage patterns across the site are another major source of fragmentation variability. In Figure B.50 the high density pottery concentrations are noted by the gray areas, the stippled areas represent modest fragmentation, the unstippled areas represent high fragmentation (and very low density), and the numbers correspond to the number of size Class 3 and 4 sherds found per shovel test. Seven of the high-density sherd clusters correspond to similar clusters of FCR but two do not. These two clusters of

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pottery could represent debris left behind in use or production areas. They may also represent provisional discard areas adjacent to pottery-related activity areas.

The larger sherds seem to be scattered among and between the high-density debris piles, but few occur anywhere else. Areas of moderate fragmentation match the location of larger sherds. The presence of highly fragmented sherds in the high-density clusters

(which are looking increasingly like formal refuse dumps) and the arcing distributions of larger fragments are probably best interpreted as a sign of recurrent cleaning activities of highly fragmented, most likely trampled, objects from high traffic areas, such as a household plaza or activity area. The size class distribution curves in Figure B.51 for pottery from 20 of the 21 blocks look distinctly like the curves in the trampled pottery assemblages experimentally produced by Nielsen (1991:Fig. 3). Interestingly, the two unique curves (from Blocks 11 and 14) in Figure B.51 suggest the presence of less- trampled pottery in an otherwise well-trodden assemblage. Nielsen would suggest that either these less fragmented sherds belonged to more robust vessels, or that sherds in these two areas experienced less trampling before site abandonment. In the latter situation, less trampling could have occurred either because the sherds were deposited in low traffic areas of the settlement or they were deposited just before abandonment. Any of these three could account for the concentration of the larger sherds in shovel test

Blocks 11 and 14 at Strait.

At sedentary, Shipibo-Conibo settlements in eastern Peru, regular cleaning practices produced scalloped distributions of densely concentrated debris (exhibiting similar size curves to those in Fig. B.51) bordering relatively trash free activity areas

(DeBoer and Lathrap 1979). So far, the distribution pattern of refuse classes (i.e., pottery

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and fire-cracked rock) at the Strait site is closely aligned to that of Shipibo-Conibo households, as well as many other sedentary settlements documented by ethnoarchaeologists. As is shown in the next section on stone tool production and maintenance debris, this pattern of well-maintained living, activity, and waste disposal areas seems to hold for all debris classes.

Lithics

Those who occupied the settlement at the Strait site left behind a wide variety of lithic debris and tools. Unlike pottery sherds and fire-cracked rock, which accumulate as a by-product of use and discard in any given household, lithic debris increases in quantity primarily through increased production. The end result of this production, lithic tools for example, may be deposited elsewhere or they may be reduced through maintenance and recycling to such a degree that nothing recognizable as a tool remains. As shown in

Chapter 5 (see Fig. B.33), the projectile points at Strait were highly maintained (i.e., resharpened).

First to be considered in this section is lithic debris, which in this study is comprised of whole and fragmented flakes, shatter, and core fragments (i.e., debitage).

The shovel tests at Strait encountered 7528 pieces of lithic debitage across size Classes 1-

4. No lithic debris from Class 5 was found during shovel testing. Table 7.4 contains the standardized counts and weights of lithic debris by size class for each of the 21 shovel tested blocks (Table A.3 contains the raw counts).

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Sample Block Size Class 1 (g) Weight Size Class 2 (g) Weight Size Class 3 (g) Weight Size Class 4 (g) Weight Total Frequency (g) Weight 1 496.2 151.8 117.7 217.7 3.3 137.2 0 0 617.2 506.7 2 510 166.2 112.9 211.3 6.8 88.1 0 0 629.7 465.6 3 473.8 163.6 163.6 307.2 7.5 93.8 0 0 644.9 564.6 4 430.7 119.3 108.8 203.1 2.2 29.6 0 0 541.7 352 5 519.1 166.1 89.6 181.1 3.1 27.9 0 0 611.8 375.1 6 402.9 132 71 117.3 5.6 43.2 0 0 479.5 292.5 7 118.8 41 18.9 37.6 1.1 30.4 0 0 138.8 109 8 144.2 44.8 35 56 5.2 105.5 0 0 184.4 206.3 9 755.9 240.5 188.7 354.2 7.8 81 0 0 952.4 675.7 10 36.3 9.3 17.5 23.3 0 0 0 0 53.8 32.6 11 65.9 23.4 8.2 14.2 1 3.8 0 0 75.1 41.4

136 12 527 176.8 117 233.5 3 54.4 0 0 647 464.7 13 902 290.5 252 496.3 8 67.7 2 440.1 1164 1294.6 14 391 113.4 55.2 111.1 4.6 58 0 0 450.8 282.5 15 246.2 80.3 76.2 208.4 6.2 102.3 0 0 328.6 391 16 68 27.4 21 36.3 2 18.6 0 0 91 82.3 17 341.3 109.1 81.3 183.3 3.8 32.8 0 0 426.4 325.2 18 76 28.4 24 64.3 5 89.8 0 0 105 182.5 19 167 55.7 44 96 2 67 1 163.5 214 382.2 20 71.1 33.2 13.4 27.1 0 0 0 0 84.5 60.3 21 190.5 62.5 38.5 97.6 1.1 6.5 0 0 230.1 166.6 Total 6933.9 2235.3 1654.5 3276.9 79.3 1137.6 3 603.6 8670.7 7253.4

Table 7.4: Standardized counts of lithic debitage by size class per shovel test block.

Lithic debitage is produced in varying amounts during all stages of lithic reduction (Whittaker 1994). At the end of any reduction event, assuming the knapper is stationary, the distribution of debitage is dependent on a number of factors, including knapping height (e.g., seated vs. standing), knapping technique (e.g., hard hammer vs. pressure), and quality of raw material, for example. If knapping takes place on a moveable surface, such as a deer hide, then the debris can be easily collected and moved elsewhere, leaving little to nothing behind (Clark 1991). Conversely, if the debris is allowed to fall to the ground, collecting it is much more difficult and the likelihood that small flakes might be left behind is greatly increased.

Another factor that affects cleaning behavior is the amount of debris produced during the reduction event. A major knapping episode in which one or more early stage bifaces are formed into complete projectiles, for example, can produce hundreds to thousands of flakes of a variety of sizes. Such a large amount of debris is hard to ignore, especially when space is at a premium, as in permanently occupied spaces (Binford 1983;

Clark 1991). However, minor knapping events, for example, resharpening the blade element on a broken projectile or removing a flake from a block of raw material for expedient use, produce such a small amount of debris that it is easy to ignore. Many minor events over weeks, months, or years can result in lots of small debris scattered across large areas. This interaction between space availability, the amount of debris generated during production or use activities, and cleaning behavior is applicable to any material class (e.g., pottery, fire-cracked, and bone) (Binford 1983).

Lithic debitage seems to be somewhat less clustered than pottery or fire-cracked rock. Figure B.52 shows the standardized, cumulative size class distribution of debitage

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frequency by shovel test block. The blocks are ranked by total frequency. Clearly, this distribution is somewhat different than that presented in similar graphs for fire-cracked rock (see Fig. B.40) and pottery (see Fig. B.45), which seem to have a logarithmic distribution across the tested blocks. The lithic debitage distribution is more modal, with high-density blocks (13 and 9), medium-density blocks (12, 3, 2, 1, and 4), and then a range of blocks with a fairly rapidly decreasing amount of debitage. Unlike the other artifact classes, no block was totally without debitage.

Size Class 1 debris is the most abundant in all blocks, as is apparent in Figure

B.52. However, this small debris does not totally dominate any one block’s assemblage.

In Figure B.53 debitage counts per size class are transformed into relative frequencies and ordered by the relative amount of debitage in size Class 2. While size Classes 3 and 4 are relatively rare, they do make up as much as nearly 5% of the debris assemblage in some blocks. The significance of this variability is important for considerations of the kinds, or stages, of reduction that took place in each block. While it is not my goal to undertake a detailed study of the debitage assemblage, some generalized observations on the kinds of reduction debris present across the tested areas may uncover useful patterns of activity area location and maintenance, as well as debris discard patterns.

Flintknappers toward the end of the Middle Woodland period regularly produced two kinds of formal chipped-stone tools: bladelets and bifaces (Genheimer 1996).

Bladelet reduction generates only small amounts of debris; typically little above a ¼ inch in size is produced other than bladelets, platform rejuvenation flakes, and exhausted bladelet cores (Morrow 1998). Thus bladelet production likely contributed little to the mass of flakes and shatter at the Strait site, despite the large number of bladelets found.

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The kinds of debris generated when making bifaces is well known and has been experimentally produced in numerous studies (e.g., Ingbar et al. 1989; Magne and

Pokotylo 1981; Mauldin and Amick 1989; Pecora 2002; and Tomka 1989). Many scholars argue that lithic debris can be used to study the kinds (e.g., core vs. biface) (e.g.,

Parry and Kelly 1987, Sullivan and Rozen 1985) and stages (Stage 1 biface blank vs. biface preform) (e.g., Magne 1989; Magne and Pokotylo 1981; Stahle and Dunn 1984) of reduction present in an assemblage. In general, most studies have shown that the presence of large debris is indicative of early stage reduction. Pecora (2002), in fact, states that

100% of the debris that fell into his two largest size grades (½-1 in. and >1 in.) came from the earlier stages of his experimental biface production (in his case, the first 3 stages). Based on these experimental results, the presence of larger debris, especially, is diagnostic of early stage reduction.

One test of the importance of these varying trends of debris size shown in Figure

B.53 is to look at the distribution of debitage sizes across the site. Figure B.54 shows the distribution of total debitage counts per shovel test. Like fire-cracked rock and pottery, debitage densities seem to peak in a number of blocks. The densest cluster straddles the southern edge of shovel test Block 13, with some lesser peaks in Blocks 1-3, 5, 6, 9, 14, and 17. While notable absences of debitage are still readily apparent in some blocks, the distribution of debitage is somewhat less exclusionary in its clustering than the other artifact classes. That is, major debitage clusters are located in the same places as fire- cracked rock and pottery, but there seems to be more debitage in intercluster space than was the case for the other artifact classes.

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One technique for demonstrating this density difference in intercluster space is to plot the degree to which artifacts of each class vary in their frequency from one block to the next, here referred to as Degree of Clustering (DCY). While this measure of density variability in objects per block across a population of blocks cannot detect multiple clusters within one block, it does provide a measure of overall dispersion of objects across all blocks considered. The closer the match between block and actual cluster size, the better this technique works. The Degree of Clustering technique was developed for this research as a tool for making general comparisons of clustering between various classes of artifacts.

In any given array of blocks containing objects, an object class is completely clustered if all objects in that class occur in one of the n blocks (in my research at the

Strait site, there are 21 blocks). Conversely, an artifact class is not clustered if it is evenly spread across all blocks. The Degree of Clustering for an artifact class (Y) is measured by dividing the standard deviation (SY) by the mean (Y ) for the population of artifact counts, or weights, across all blocks. Table 7.5 shows the degree of clustering values for six artifact classes (FCR, pottery, lithic debitage, bone, all flake tools, and bladelets) in the shovel tested area at Strait. The values for two Hypothetical Artifact Classes (HAC1 and HAC2) are provided for reference and represent the extreme possibilities of completely clustered (HAC2) and not clustered (HAC1) values. With just the values presented in Table 7.5, only the Bone artifact class seems unusually clustered relative to the other artifact classes. However, the degree of clustering measure does not produce results that are linearly related. Rather, they represent a logarithmic relationship.

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-Not - 1 2 HAC Clustered Debitage Fire-Cracked Rock All Chipped Stone Tools Pottery Bladelets Bone HAC Completely Clustered

DCY 0.01 0.74 0.82 0.86 0.92 1.04 3.34 4.58

Table 7.5: Degree of Clustering measure for select artifact classes.

To demonstrate this curvilinear relationship, on can plot the degree of clustering value on a graph with one axis representing the Degree of Clustering value and the other axis log (Degree of Clustering), as in Figure B.55. Plotting degree of clustering against its log can be thought of as showing the rate at which clustering occurs as the standard deviation increases between blocks (i.e., artifact distribution becomes increasingly clustered in fewer blocks). This rate increases rapidly at first from the point of no clustering (HAC1) and then slowly decreases to the point of completely clustered

(HAC2). Thus, artifact classes that are highly clustered to specific blocks should occur farther “up” this curve and less clustered artifact classes should be farther “down” this curve. In essence, it is the location of an artifact class along this curve that best represents its Degree of Clustering within the space sampled by the population of blocks.

Figure B.55 shows a plot of the degree of clustering for the distribution of the six artifact classes presented in Table 7.5. Clearly, lithic debitage appears lower on the curve than the other artifact classes, though many are tightly spaced together. Bone and bladelets appear higher on the curve as they were found in fewer blocks. The cultural implications of this difference are further explored below.

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Now that it is established that lithic debitage is somewhat different in its distribution than pottery or fire-cracked rock, it is worth examining the distribution of different debitage size classes and considering the significance of these distributions as they relate to the use of space and patterns of debitage discard. Figure B.56 shows the distribution of debitage size Classes 1-4. Size Class 1 debitage is the most widespread of the size classes. The fact that the size Class 1 distribution map so closely matches the distribution of all debitage (Fig. B.54) shows how this size class dominates the debitage assemblage. While not the smallest kind of debris produced during flintknapping, size

Class 1 debris is typically generated during most kinds and stages of lithic reduction. Size

Class 2 objects are fairly widely spread but are not found in all of the main debitage clusters. Finally, the largest debitage, size Classes 3 and 4, seems to be distributed in a pattern much like that of the large pottery and FCR objects. While large debitage is present in some of the main clusters, especially the large cluster in Block 13, it seems more likely to occur in intercluster space and at the edges of the main clusters. In part, this is undoubtedly related to the fact that a large number of these big pieces of chert

(mostly flakes) were deposited by different activities than those involved in the deposition of smaller pieces. Many of the larger flakes exhibit edge damage and are retouched, suggesting they were used as tools—an artifact class that logically would have a potentially different depositional pattern/sequence than unused and discarded debris.

Figure B.57 is a summary of the debitage distribution data. The locations of major clusters are highlighted in gray and the distribution of larger debris is plotted per shovel test. In this map it is plainly evident that large objects are widely scattered between the main clusters of smaller objects, as well as being clustered in the large concentration of

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objects in the Block 13 area. Also of interest is the fact that there are more dense clusters of lithic debris (n=12) than either pottery (n=9, Fig. B.50) or fire-cracked rock (n=10,

Fig. B.44). Furthermore, the lithic debris clusters seem to cover a larger amount of space.

The number and content as well as degree of clustering of debitage clusters at

Strait suggests that (1) debitage generating activities were more numerous and widespread than activities related to other artifact categories, (2) some of the debitage was cleaned up and moved to formal dumping areas while some of it was left behind, and

(3) the choices behind what was moved to these dumping areas were affected by the size and rarity of the debris. The need for sharp cutting edges was no doubt very regular at the

Strait site. Use wear analyses have shown that Middle-Late Woodland period stone tools were used in a wide variety of tasks, including cutting, scraping, sawing, and graving, among others (Lemons and Church 1998; Yerkes 1990). Thus, the production and maintenance of stone tools must have been a very regular activity. In fact, one could argue that the deposition of stone tool making, maintenance, and use debris occurred at a much different, and more rapid, pace than the deposition of pottery. With that in mind I expected to see a more widespread distribution (i.e., greater occurrence between clusters) of lithic debitage as compared to other artifact classes.

The fact that all size classes of lithic debitage tend to co-occur with many of the high density clusters of other kinds of debris suggests that at least some of the lithic debris was being collected and deposited in special debris dumping areas. In a number of ethnographic studies, the regularity and degree to which lithic debris is moved to dump areas has been shown to be a factor of the availability of space, the potential for space/site abandonment, the value of the debris for future use, and the degree of hazard

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its presence puts on the use of space (Clark 1991; Clark and Kurashina 1981; Hayden and

Cannon 1983). Indeed, Clark (1986) suggests that the secondary disposal of lithic debris, or movement of lithic debris to dump sites, is simply a fact of sedentary life.

Furthermore, his research shows that regularly used and maintained flintknapping activity areas tend to lack larger debris and have a surplus of smaller debris. Seven debitage clusters (exclusive debitage clusters) in the shovel tested area at Strait do not coincide with other artifact classes. The locations of these are shown in Figure B.57. Four of these fit the criteria for possibly representing flintknapping activity areas. They are the clusters of size Class 1 debitage marked by light gray fill in Figure B.57. In fact there is a notable lack of other kinds of debris, even in low density, in three of these size Class 1 debitage concentrations. While these areas could represent the locations of small lithic debris dumping episodes, given the presence of a number of major dumping areas nearby, it seems more likely that these clusters of small sized lithic debris represent lithic production and/or maintenance (i.e., knapping) activity areas. The remaining three areas of exclusive lithic debris deposition (dark and cross-hatched in Fig. B.57) could represent the beginnings of new garbage dumps, provisional discard zones for lithic debris, or lithic reduction activities that took place during a period of imminent site abandonment

(assuming that the larger pieces of debris in size Class 2 would normally be cleaned up because of their use and hazard potential). The distribution of shatter and flake tools brings an additional level of clarity to the nature of the lithic clusters in Figure B.57.

Table 7.6 presents the standardized frequencies for the remaining classes of lithic debris considered in this analysis (Table A.4 contains the raw counts of these objects). As mentioned above, shatter is a type of debris generated during core reduction and during

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Sample Block Complete Flakes Flake Fragments Shatter Cores Objects with Cortex (g) Weight Objects w/out Cortex (g) Weight 1 143.2 399.6 72.2 0 66.6 179.8 546.1 321.9 2 146.9 414.8 61.2 0 61.2 154.5 563 296.9 3 148.5 419.2 79 0 65.8 94.2 582.8 474 4 111 351.9 78.8 0 42.2 77.9 499.5 275.4 5 131.8 394.5 81.4 2.1 43.3 97.1 561.4 284.1 6 95.5 336.3 48.8 1.1 37.7 43 440.7 251.1 7 15.5 99.9 23.3 0 13.3 44.5 124.3 65.3 8 50.5 113.3 18.5 0 22.7 110.5 167.9 97.9 9 208.7 661.6 86.6 0 84.4 207.7 868 470.3 10 8.8 41.3 3.8 0 3.8 2.6 50 29.8 11 10.3 55.6 10.3 0 7.2 9.7 69 31.4 12 112 471 62 1 33 57.3 612 407.7 13 227 826 109 1 77 560.4 1088 733.2 14 96.6 312.8 41.4 0 43.7 52 407.1 230.7 15 62.8 229.7 35 1 16.5 63 309 329.1 16 15 63 13 0 6 10.3 85 72.1 17 93.8 248.8 80 0 27.5 51.9 393.8 274 18 18 64 22 0 14 77.9 88 106.2 19 38 139 33 2 36 293.5 176 89.1 20 18.5 49.4 13.4 1 5.2 5.2 78.3 55.5 21 40.7 156.2 33.2 0 17.1 33.3 211.9 133.5 Total 1793 5847.9 1005.8 9.2 724 2226.2 7921.7 5029

Table 7.6: Standardized lithic debitage class frequencies per block.

the earlier stages of biface production. While a quick scan of Table 7.6 shows that, in general, shatter only represents a relatively minor ratio of the lithic debris, Figure B.58

shows that its distribution is widespread in very low frequencies and peaked in some

potentially important areas.

In Figure B.59 twelve shatter clusters are highlighted in yellow (and numbered I-

XII) and overlaid on the clusters of debris pulled from the total distribution of lithic

debitage. The number of flake tools (utilized/ retouched flakes, bladelets) per shovel test

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is also plotted. While not all bladelets were used as tools, many do exhibit macroscopic use wear. Table 7.7 contains the standardized frequencies for lithic tools (Table A.5 contains the raw counts for lithic tools.)

A number of useful observations can be made from the map in Figure B.59. First, five of the shatter concentrations (I, IV, VI, VIII, and XII) occur within clusters of lithic debris that coincide with other dense artifact class clusters. Assuming shatter objects had a low potential to be picked up and used as expedient tools, and given that most of the shatter is small, these five shatter concentrations probably represent flintknapping debris that has been cleaned up and dumped into catch-all refuse piles. Thus, as with pottery and fire-cracked rock, these five shatter concentrations suggest that lithic debris was collected and discarded in the same place as other kinds of refuse (e.g., formal dumps).

A second group of shatter clusters suggests a different kind of refuse discard.

Shatter clusters II, III, VII, and IX correspond to lithic clusters that do not coincide with any other kinds of dense concentrations of objects. Earlier, these “exclusive” lithic clusters were interpreted in two ways. First, those clusters with size Class 1 and 2 debris

(salmon-colored in Fig. B.59) were suggested as being either the location of provisional discard zones, the beginnings of new dump sites, or areas of flintknapping activities performed during an area/site abandonment period. Two of these clusters contain concentrations of shatter (shatter clusters II, III, and IX). The presence of shatter alone in these areas does not help support any one of the three possible interpretations as the origin of these lithic-debris-exclusive clusters. However, when the distribution of flake tools is also considered, one of these shatter clusters stands out. Shatter cluster II is

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b

a

c Sample Block Biface Fragments Biface Fragments Scrapers Drills Fragments Axe Pitted Stones Gorgets Total Chipped Tools Stone PMW Projectiles Retouched Flakes Flakes Retouched Bladelets MW Projectiles 1 6.7 16.7 1.1 4.4 3.3 0 0 0 1.1 0 28.9 2 2.7 10.9 4.1 0 2.7 1.4 0 0 0 0 19.1 3 11.3 9.4 1.9 0 3.8 0 0 0 0 0 22.6 4 3.3 17.8 4.4 1.1 1.1 0 0 0 0 0 26.6 5 3.1 4.1 2.1 0 2.1 0 0 0 1 1 9.3 6 3.3 7.8 1.1 0 3.3 0 0 0 0 0 12.2 7 1.1 1.1 0 2.2 0 0 0 0 0 0 4.4 8 1 4.1 1 0 2.1 0 0 0 0 0 6.2 9 4.4 8.9 4.4 4.4 3.3 0 0 0 0 0 22.2 10 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 11 0 2.1 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 2.1 12 7 6 3 2 3 0 0 0 0 0 18 13 12 36 5 3 7 0 0 0 1 0 57 14 2.3 4.6 0 2.3 6.9 0 0 0 0 1 9.2 15 3.1 7.2 3.1 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 14.4 16 5 6 0 1 2 0 0 1 0 0 12 17 2.5 11.3 2.5 2.5 2.5 0 0 0 1.3 0 18.8 18 1 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 0 3 19 3 3 1 1 1 0 0 0 1 0 8 20 1 1 1 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 3.1 21 4.3 6.4 1.1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 3.1 Total 78.1 164.4 36.8 25.9 46.1 1.4 1 1 5.4 2 273 a-includes unambiguous complete and fragmentary Lowe Cluster projectile points. b-includes probable fragments of Lowe Cluster projectile points. c-sum of retouched flakes, bladelets, MW projectile points, scrapers, and drills.

Table 7.7: Standardized stone tool frequencies per block.

located at the edge of a mixed lithic cluster and co-occurs with a large number of flake tools. This is good evidence to support the idea that the shatter cluster II area represents an activity area in which flake tools were used and probably produced from blocky cores and/or picked out of nearby, provisional refuse containing larger (e.g., size Class 2) debris. The shatter cluster III and IX areas, since they have few flake tools, probably

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represent provisionally discarded lithic debris from nearby knapping activities or de facto refuse from knapping during an abandonment period.

Of the four size Class 1 lithic debitage clusters that do not coincide with concentrations of other kinds of debris (these are gray and cross-hatched in Fig. B.59), three do not contain shatter clusters while the forth contains shatter cluster VII. If the three size Class 1 debitage clusters are in fact flintknapping activity areas, then they most likely represent a stage of flintknapping during which little to no shatter is produced, such as during resharpening and the final stages of biface manufacture. The cluster of lithic debitage containing shatter cluster VII could present an early stage biface reduction area, or it may be a mixed early stage biface production and expedient flake production area.

Two small shatter clusters (V and XI) remain to be considered. Shatter cluster XI co-occurs with a large number of flake tools, making it a possible flake tool production and use area. Quite a number of flake tools were found just south of this cluster, as well.

Finally, shatter cluster V is not associated with any other major artifact classes. Its origin is uncertain. However, it could represent an early stage lithic reduction activity area.

In summary, the distribution of lithic debris, while not as tightly clustered as pottery sherds or fire-cracked rock, does seem to be patterned in a way consistent with the presence of formal dumping areas, two kinds of lithic reduction activity areas (early stage and later stage reduction), and flake tool use/production areas. These patterns are further considered in the summary section at the end of this chapter.

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Bone

Like objects in the three previously mentioned artifact classes, the formation of bone assemblages at household clusters is a complicated process (Kent 1984; Reitz and

Wing 1999)—one contributed to by human, animal, and natural agents of weathering and disturbance. However, unlike the other, more durable materials like fire-cracked, lithic debris, and pottery, bone is much more affected by chemical and biological weathering

(i.e., bacteria action and animal scavenging). Given all of the agents of entropy that affect bone objects and their distributions at settlements, it is a wonder that bone is ever found.

The shovel testing program at Strait encountered very little bone, whether burned or unburned. Table 7.8 presents the standardized bone frequency data per shovel test block (Table A.6 contains the raw counts). The overwhelming majority of bone fragments, by weight and count, were found in the large cluster of all object classes straddling the line between Blocks 12 and 13 (Fig. B.60). This massive refuse concentration is the only non-feature context in which unburned bone was found by shovel testing on the site.

A number of possible explanations exist for the lack of bone in the shovel testing data at Strait and the presence of unburned bone in only a single location. One is that the unburned bone is much younger than the rest of the refuse deposited at the site1.

However, very few objects from other, later time periods were found. For example, only one triangular arrow point (this type appears at approximately A.D. 1000 in central Ohio

[Litfin et al. 1993]) was recovered in all of the excavations at Strait, and it was found in shovel test Block 1. Furthermore, much of the unburned bone found in a test trench

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Sample Block Burned Bone (g) Weight Unburned Bone Weight Total Bone (g) Weight 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 1.4 0.5 0 0 1.4 0.5 3 5.6 0.6 0 0 5.6 0.6 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 6 1.1 0.2 0 0 1.1 0.2 7 0 0 0 0 0 0 8 0 0 0 0 0 0 9 0 0 0 0 0 0 10 0 0 0 0 0 0 11 1 0.3 0 0 1 0.3 12 50 14.7 7 5.4 57 20.1 13 135 40.9 12 5.9 147 46.8 14 0 0 0 0 0 0 15 0 0 0 0 0 0 16 0 0 0 0 0 0 17 0 0 0 0 0 0 18 0 0 0 0 0 0 19 0 0 0 0 0 0 20 0 0 0 0 0 0 21 0 0 0 0 0 0 Total 194.1 57.2 19 11.3 213.1 68.5

Table 7.8: Standardized burned and unburned bone frequencies per block.

(excavation block E, discussed below) in the large refuse dump was encountered closer to the bottom of the deposit, with numerous Middle Woodland period objects found closer to the surface in the same excavation units. Thus, Middle Woodland period objects are stratigraphically above the unburned bone, suggesting that the bone cannot be more recent than the Middle Woodland period—assuming serious disturbances have not impacted this part of the archaeological deposit.

A second possibility is that the inhabitants of the Strait site did not utilize faunal resources to any great degree. But this too seems unlikely given the vast amounts of

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other, more durable artifact classes that are present, which suggest a long-term occupation.

A final, and most likely, explanation for the lack of bone at Strait comes in two parts: taphonomy and sampling error. While some animal bone at Strait no doubt was used for making tools, most bone objects, in general, are deposited as biological refuse in provisional discard zones, pits, and formal trash dumps (i.e., a factor of taphonomy, in this case, human refuse disposal behavior patterns). In these areas the bones may have been subject to predation by animals. Hayden and Cannon (1983) note that some of their informants intentionally left bones out for dogs or other animals to carry away. Because biological waste (including bones and other food waste) attracts unwanted pests, it may also have been dumped outside the settlement.

At present, unburned and burned bone has been documented in two of these contexts at Strait, including in pit features (e.g., Feature 4, 37) and in refuse dumps (the clusters in shovel test Blocks 3 and 13). Deposition in these kinds of settings may in fact increase the rate of bone decomposition because of elevated microbial activity (Reitz and

Wing 1999). A very small amount of burned and unburned bone was also found during the excavation of debris from inside a structure in excavation Block 2. The third option, an out-of-the-way place, could be the escarpment slope just a few meters away from most of the possible household cluster areas at Strait. Dumping on slopes is not unknown at

Middle Woodland period sites. A very high density of bone was found in the down-slope garbage dump preserved under alluvial sediments at the McGraw site in Ross County,

Ohio (Prufer 1965).

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The lack of bone in the shovel test data is also possibly related to sampling error.

Bone is a fairly rare object class at Strait; therefore small, widely spaced sample units

(i.e., shovel tests) are likely to miss it. As will be shown below, much more bone was found when larger test units (1 by 1 meter units) were used. A similar mix of taphonomy and excavation strategy likely explains the large amounts of bone found at sites like

McGraw (Prufer 1965) and Scioto Trail (Otto 1983, Lee and Pederson 1998) and the small amounts found at Murphy (Dancey 1991) and Water Plant (Dancey 1988).

In sum, very little faunal material was found at the Strait site. Almost all of it is confined to large refuse piles. Rather than viewing this as problem with the archaeological record at Strait, for example the soil conditions are just not conducive to bone preservation (a factor of natural formation processes), perhaps the distribution of bone is more related to behavioral formation processes. One possibility is that the Strait site inhabitants liked to leave their butchered carcasses in the field or outside the settlement and only return to the household cluster with the meat. In this way much less waste is created within the settlement. The mere presence of the large refuse piles suggests that the Strait inhabitants were fastidious cleaners. The occurrence of bone in these possible dumps to the near exclusion of other areas only reaffirms the importance of the maintenance of space within the settlement.

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Summary of Shovel Testing Results

…with increasing site population (or perhaps site size) and increasing intensity of occupation, there will be a decreasing correspondence between the use and discard locations for all elements used in activities and discarded at a site. (Schiffer 1972:162)

This principle of site formation proposed by Schiffer is applicable with the Strait site, if the site does represent one, multi-year occupation, as suggested in Chapter 6. The presence of artifact clustering at the Strait site is clear. In showing the distribution of objects by raw material class and size class, it is also clear that size was an important factor influencing the final disposition of objects on the site. Figure B.61 shows the location of all artifact clusters evident from the shovel test data as presented in the summary cluster figures for each different material class. The clusters are numbered 1-20 for ease of discussion.

By definition, artifact clusters are loci of regular object accumulation. Objects can accumulate in clusters in a number of ways, including through natural processes such as the effects of gravity pulling objects down into a depression (e.g., an open cooking pit).

Other natural disturbances can also create clustering. It is possible that the artifact clusters in the tested area at Strait were formed by recent disturbances, such as hog wallowing. However, the consistency of the artifact pattern at Strait with the expected results of the household cluster model and with the results of numerous ethnoarchaeological studies of secondary refuse disposal, suggests the artifact clusters exhibit intact refuse disposal patterns from the late Middle Woodland period. Assuming

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that human refuse disposal patterns account for the presence of artifact clusters at Strait, the next step is to identify the kinds of refuse disposal behaviors responsible for the content and location of the 20 clusters.

Each cluster contains a different suite of material classes that can be used for interpreting the source of the objects in the cluster and thus the function of the area in which the cluster of objects was deposited within the settlement. In Chapter 2 a number of principles of refuse disposal were synthesized from a series of ethnoarchaeological studies of refuse disposal patterns in living communities, mostly in Central and South

America:

(1) Refuse is differentially treated according to size and type. Larger refuse has a higher hindrance value (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Deal 1998; Kent 1984).

(2) The longer a space is occupied the more structured it becomes as refuse and high hindrance materials are moved to formalized refuse dumps (Kent 1992; Murray 1980; Schiffer 1972).

(3) Cleaning (e.g., sweeping) leaves behind small objects (DeBoer 1983; Schiffer 1976, 1987).

(4) Special effort is made to remove exceptionally hazardous materials (objects with a high hindrance potential) from high traffic zones, such as activity areas (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Deal 1998; Schiffer 1987).

(5) Some portion of all refuse types is scattered about household space by “attritional” and natural formation processes (Hayden and Cannon 1983; Schiffer 1987).

(6) The use of pits for refuse disposal is rare, opportunistic, and largely based on convenient access (Hayden and Cannon 1983).

(7) Objects found on living floors (i.e., inside dwellings) or in activity areas are probably in a state of provisional discard (Hayden and Cannon 1983; LaMotta and Schiffer 1999; Schiffer 1985).

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These principles have been found through ethnoarchaeological research to be important in governing the deposition of refuse in five kinds of household cluster contexts: (1) dwelling floors, (2) other (outdoor) activity areas, (3) provisional discard zones, (4) formal dumps, (5) within discrete features such as pits, and (6) as scattered objects across the settlement.

As high traffic activity areas, dwelling floors are highly maintained spaces

(LaMotta and Schiffer 1999; Schiffer 1985). As such they experience regular cleaning and removal of objects with high hindrance potential (Hayden and Cannon 1983). Small objects that are difficult to see or that become imbedded in the floor matrix are left behind (DeBoer 1983; Schiffer 1976, 1987). Sweepings are taken outside the structure and deposited in nearby locations, including opportunistic locations (e.g., open pit features), provisional discard zones (e.g., along the edge of the structure), and/or nearby formal refuse dumps (Hayden and Cannon 1983). Potentially useful objects of a variety of sizes also accumulate in provisional discard zones along walls and under furniture

(Deal 1998; Hayden and Cannon 1983; LaMotta and Schiffer 1999).

Outdoor activity areas are also high traffic zones, but the limitations on space availability tend to be relaxed as compared to the space inside dwellings. Sweeping may be fairly regular in outdoor activity areas (Hayden and Cannon 1983), leaving behind only very small and/or imbedded objects (DeBoer 1983; Schiffer 1976), but the complete removal of sweeping debris from the area is less critical and thus provisional discard arcs of sweepings accumulate around activity areas (DeBoer and Lathrap 1979). In sum, activity areas in general will contain minimal amounts of debris in a primary context

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(Kent 1984; LaMotta and Schiffer 1999; Schiffer 1972, 1985, 1987). Only the smallest objects have the potential to remain in these areas. During periods of abandonment, activity areas can become cluttered with debris otherwise removed to dumping areas

(Stevenson 1982).

Based on these general principles of the maintenance of space, provisional discard zones should include accumulations of a wide variety of objects exhibiting variability in size and material class as dependent on the nature of nearby activities (Deal 1998). These areas also contain objects with potential remnant use-life (Deal 1998; LaMotta and

Schiffer 1999). Thus, as areas of trash disposal, provisional discard zones should contain a wide variety of object sizes but may be potentially limited in the material classes that are present. Periodically, provisional discard zones may be cleaned up and debris removed to formal trash dumping areas (Hayden and Cannon1983; Deal 1998). As low traffic, catchall locations for all kinds of waste, formal refuse dumping zones should contain the greatest diversity of objects (Wilson 1994) along many dimensions of artifact variability, including size, material type, and function. The location, size, and density of these formal refuse dumps is a factor of household cluster density within the settlement

(Schiffer 1972), the duration of household cluster occupation (Schiffer 1972), and the kinds of productive and consumptive activities that take place within the confines of household cluster space. Generally speaking, refuse dumps become larger and more formalized (i.e., used repeatedly) the longer the household area or settlement is occupied

(Murray 1980; Schiffer 1972). Household cluster and settlement abandonment and post abandonment behaviors may change the nature of debris deposition patterns in activity areas (Stevenson 1982), but they will likely do little to alter formal refuse dumps. These

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generalizations are summarized in Table 7.9. They are the criteria that will be used below to identify cluster type for each of the 20 clusters shown in Figure B.61.

Artifact Artifact Artifact Artifact Diversity Size Density Function Activity Low Small Low Tools Areas Provisional Tools and Medium All Medium Discard Zones Refuse Formal Refuse Tools and High All High Dumps Refuse

Table 7.9: A matrix demonstrating the relationship between zones of refuse accumulation and artifact variability.

Assuming the 20 artifact clusters presented in Figure B.61 are related to household activities and have accumulated within or near to household cluster space, they can be interpreted based on the above regularities observed in many household contexts around the world and through time. Most important to consider for identifying the components of household clusters shown in the household cluster model in Figure B.6 are cluster location and artifact diversity.

Table 7.10 summarizes the presence or absence of select artifact classes (i.e., artifact diversity) across the 20 clusters. Each cluster was scored according to the presence or absence of 16 artifact classes that showed important variability in the distribution and density analysis. Some of the artifact classes, such as cores, for example, were present in fairly low numbers. In cases where the rare objects were more numerous

(n ≅ 3 or more objects), a large “X” is used to indicate presence. A small “x” denotes the

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FCR Pottery Lithics Bone

Cluster Number Small Large Small Large Small Only Sm. /Med. Large Shatter Cores U/R Flakes Bladelets P. Points All L. Tools Biface Burned Unburned Diversity Diversity Index 1 X X X x X x X x X x X x 59.4 2 x X x x x x 21.9 3 X X X X X x X x X X X x 65.6 4 X X x x x 21.9 5 X X X X x x x 34.4 6 X X X X X x X X X x X x x 68.8 7 X X X x X x x x 37.5 8 X x X x x 21.9 9 X x x 12.5 10 X x x 12.5 11 X X X X X X X x X X X X X X X 90.1 12 x X x X x x x x x 34.4 13 X X X x x x x 31.2 14 x X X x x x 28.1 15 X x x 12.5 16 X x X x X x X x 37.5 17 X X X X x x 31.3 18 X x x x x 18.8 19 X 6.3 20 X X x X x x 28.1

Table 7.10: Cluster content matrix and artifact class diversity per cluster.

presence of a rare artifact class but only in very low numbers (n ≅ 1-3 objects). Based on these presence/absence data, a diversity index was generated in an attempt to quantify the differences in artifact class diversity across the 20 clusters. This index was computed by counting up the number of artifact classes present in a cluster and dividing by the total possible classes present. Because it is important to include rare objects in this measure of diversity but they occur in such low frequencies, the index was weighted against them somewhat by counting all of the large “X”s twice and the small “x”s once. When the 20 clusters are sorted by their diversity index values, this weighting only changes the order

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slightly. Nevertheless, this weighted diversity index seems to better reflect the distribution of objects on the ground than an unweighted diversity index.

Figure B.62 is a graphic display of the diversity index values for the 20 clusters.

Clearly, four of the clusters far exceed the others in the diversity of the kinds and sizes of objects they contain. These clusters (11, 6, 3, and 1) are interpreted as representing formal refuse dumps. They meet the criteria for this designation as presented in Table

7.9. These clusters contain all material types and size classes, they have high artifact density, and both refuse and tools are present. Importantly, these four diverse clusters all contain both small and large fire-cracked rock in great abundance (i.e., hundreds of fragments per shovel test). Only one other cluster (20) contains a similar diversity of fire- cracked rock. Cluster 20 may also represent a formal refuse dump, but without concentrations of lithic debris, it is distinctive from the other four dump areas. Perhaps it is an early stage refuse dump. The remaining clusters represent a variety of artifact class combinations.

In Table 7.11 each cluster is assigned a primary and secondary set of interpreted functions using the diversity information presented in Table 7.10 and the identification criteria summarized in Table 7.9. There are five basic cluster classes: (1) formal refuse dumps, (2) provisional discard zones, (3) activity areas related to pottery, (4) all purpose activity areas, and (5) activity areas related to stone tool use and production. The secondary function column serves to qualify the kind of primary function for each cluster.

For example, Cluster 2 consists primarily of lithic production debris indicative of core reduction, which implies a need for flake tools—many of which were found just north of this cluster. Because these clusters likely accumulated as a result of refuse discard, either

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Cluster Primary Function Secondary Function/Comments 1 Formal Refuse Dump Single Household? 3 Formal Refuse Dump Single Household? 6 Formal Refuse Dump Single Household? 11 Formal Refuse Dump Multi-household? 20 Formal Refuse Dump may be incipient dump Dumping from nearby lithics and pottery 5 Provisional Discard Zone use/production 7 Provisional Discard Zone Almost all objects have remnant use-life 15 Provisional Discard Zone Cooking and lithics production related 9 Activity Area-Pottery Related Provisional discard for nearby cooking 18 Activity Area-Pottery Related Provisional discard for nearby cooking 13 Activity Area- All Purpose Provisional discard area for nearby activities Provisional discard with activities, Some dumping 17 Activity Area- All Purpose possible Core reduction present-activities requiring simple 2 Activity Area-Lithic Related flake tools 4 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flintknapping area, core reduction/early stage biface 8 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flintknapping area, some refuse disposal 10 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flintknapping core reduction 12 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flintknapping area, some early stage reduction 14 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flintknapping area, core reduction/early stage biface 16 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flake tool production and use area 19 Activity Area-Lithic Related Flintknapping area, kept clean

Table 7.11: Artifact cluster interpretation summary.

formal or provisional, the “activity area” designation for a cluster means that the cluster is probably part of an adjacent activity area, as in the debris arcs surrounding the Shipibo-

Conibo activity areas (DeBoer and Lathrap 1979). This can be visualized in the household cluster model in Figure B.6, where each activity area is surrounded to some degree by a provisional discard zone. Together, these two areas (i.e., discard and activity)

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represent the complete activity area. The discard zone adjacent to the activity area not only serves to contain the trash generated by the activities, but it is also a context from which useful objects and raw materials can be collected by household members. The three clusters interpreted as provisional discard zones (Clusters 5, 7, and 15) probably accumulated through transient, provisional discard. That is, while the debris in these clusters was probably cleaned up from an activity area, such as from within a dwelling, it was moved to a nearby location and dumped rather than having been taken to a formal refuse dump. Thus, these three provisional discard clusters could be formal dumps in the making. However, by the time of site/household cluster abandonment certain kinds of refuse (e.g., fire-cracked rock) had yet to be deposited in these locations.

Figure B.63 shows the distribution of the five kinds of clusters presented in Table

7.11. The five formal refuse dumps, shown in black, are spread out across the area tested.

Cluster 11 is clearly the largest refuse dump with the most diverse kinds of objects

(diversity index=90.1). Diversity is correlated to cluster size as we move down the diversity index rank order in Figure B.62. Cluster 6 is the next largest refuse dump cluster with the next highest artifact diversity (diversity index=68.8), then Cluster 3 (diversity index=65.6), and so on. Clusters 1 and 3 may actually represent two nodes of the same refuse dumping area, the growth of which into one large refuse pile could have been interrupted by site/household cluster abandonment. Given this scenario for Clusters 1 and

3, it seems that the large, formal refuse dumps are almost equidistantly spaced across this part of the settlement. The lack of such large dumps in the area of shovel test Blocks 16-

21 suggests that this area of the settlement served a different function, or was occupied for less time than the area with the large refuse dumps. The latter possibility seems more

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likely given the diversity of cluster classes in this area. The presence of such differential development in site/household cluster structure has a number of interesting implications and may indicate the presence of households at different points along their developmental cycles (sensu Goody 1958).

Of the possible activity area clusters, pottery-related activities, in the form of sherd clusters (discarded, broken pottery), are the most rare. Only two of the 20 clusters

(Cluster 9 and 18) are dominated by pottery. With such a small sample of pottery clusters little can be said about patterning except that the two areas are not near to one another.

The rarity of pottery clusters is not unexpected given the discard rate of pottery vessels, which was probably rather low in Middle-Late Woodland period sites in comparison to other artifact classes. Mills (1989) reviews a wide range of literature on the topic of discard rates, providing vessel use-life (i.e., breakage rate) data for 11 case studies. Most germane to the study of the Strait site are use-life data for cooking and storage vessels.

Out of the 11 cases, cooking vessels had use-lives of 0.4-4.5 years on average and storage vessels ranged from 1.2-12.5 years on average. If the Strait site was occupied for 5-20 years, a conjectural estimate at this point, then the low breakage rate of pottery, suggested by Mills’s examples, would probably result in the deposition of very little pottery refuse relative to other refuse categories with a higher production rate, such as fire-cracked rock.

In all likelihood, the two pottery clusters (Clusters 9 and 18) probably represent provisional discard areas for one or more vessels that were broken in nearby activity areas during use. Large pottery sherds were found within Cluster 9 but not in Cluster 18.

The two All Purpose activity area clusters represent a mixture of small objects from each of the material classes, plus a range of stone tool types. The size-sorted nature

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of these two clusters suggests they resulted from some kind cleaning activity. Either the locations of Clusters 13 and 17 were cleaned, removing the larger debris for deposition elsewhere, or they consist of dumped debris from a nearby cleaning activity. Either way these two clusters probably contain the byproducts of mixed, nearby activities. The important difference between these two clusters and the other activity areas is that they contain debris from multiple kinds of activities, similar to what might be expected to occur in general purpose activity areas, such as within structures or in plaza areas.

The remaining activity area clusters, and the most numerous kind of cluster (n=8), indicate the occurrence of nearby lithic reduction activities. The abundance of lithics- related clusters is undoubtedly related to the high frequency and regularity of lithic tool manufacture and maintenance activities. As discussed earlier, stone tools in the form of flake cutting tools and projectile points, for example, have a much shorter use-life than pottery but were needed as often or more frequently than most pottery vessels.

Furthermore, stone tools were probably used in a wider variety of activities across a broader range of locations. Interestingly, the locations of clusters representing lithics- related activity areas with an abundance of core reduction debris (2, 4, 10, 14, and 16) seem to be evenly spaced across the area. The presence of core reduction debris in these areas suggests that these areas are loci of flake tool production, and maybe early stage bifaces production as well.

Figure B.63 also contains an area designated as Communal Space. Very low densities of artifacts were found in this portion of the site. In addition to having few artifacts, this area was also found to have a truncated soil profile. Based on the shovel test soil profiles, the A horizon was probably intentionally removed from this area at some

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point in the past, presumably during the prehistoric occupation of the site. If, in fact, this is a communally maintained space, the Strait site has an additional level of site structure not observed at most other Middle-Late Woodland period settlements. This area also has a distinctive electrical resistivity signature, as discussed below.

Based on the distribution of the five classes of artifact clusters, Figure B.64 shows the estimated boundaries of five household clusters. The positioning of these clusters is based largely on the locations of the formal refuse dumps. Four of the five possible household cluster locations contain refuse dumps; the Cluster 11 refuse dump was possibly used by two households based on its large size. The northeastern household cluster location lacks a large dump, but this area may not have been occupied for as long as the other possible household clusters. Additionally, the slope of the escarpment is very close to the edge of this possible household cluster and may have served as the formal refuse dumping area. The assumption that household clusters in societies with low population densities are closely associated with formal refuse dumps is supported by the household cluster model (see Fig. B.6) and numerous ethnoarchaeologically documented cases (e.g., Hayden and Cannon 1983; Joyce and Johannessen 1993; Lange and Rydberg

1972; Murray 1980)

The plot of flake tools (bladelets and utilized/retouched flakes) in Figure B.64 shows that these objects occur frequently in the refuse dumps but are also found scattered about the area, except in the Communal Space. The presence of flake tools in the refuse dumps is good evidence for regular cleaning activities. Those tools not found in the refuse dumps may represent de facto refuse, or clutter refuse, and may have been

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deposited during a period of abandonment (or at abandonment) when the regularity of cleaning chores became lax.

With the identification of formal refuse dumps, provisional discard zones, and possible activity areas, all that remains is to locate the dwellings and other subterranean household facilities. The placement of activity areas assumes that these areas should be relatively free of large, hazardous objects and other undesirable refuse (e.g., unburned food waste). A similar pattern should apply to dwelling locations. Given a least effort principle of waste disposal (Hayden and Cannon 1983), formal garbage dumps were probably not far from the activity areas and dwellings. Assuming that each household cluster contained at least one dwelling, the remains of five dwellings should be present in the shovel tested area. Based on the household cluster model developed in Chapter 2, each of the proposed household clusters shown in Figure B.64 is expected to contain a subrectangular dwelling (8-10 meters wide) near its center and adjacent to a formal refuse dump. Two additional techniques were used to identify household cluster components and further support the results of the shovel testing survey: geophysical survey and the hand excavation of larger units. The results of these additional sources of data represent a means to further support the interpretations presented in Figures B.63 and B.64.

Geophysical Survey Results

Geophysical survey is one manner in which site structure can be revealed with minimal excavation. When used in conjunction with other archaeological techniques, such as small block excavation and debris distribution studies using shovel test data, geophysical survey is a powerful tool for identifying site structure. Two different

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geophysical survey techniques were employed on a small scale in two areas at the Strait site: magnetic and electrical resistivity survey.

Magnetic Survey

A variety of different kinds of magnetic sensing instruments can be profitably used on archaeological sites. Some measure magnetic susceptibility, or the way archaeological sediments react to an induced magnetic field, which in most cases is the earth’s own magnetic field. Other techniques measure a combination of magnetic susceptibility and permanent magnetism. At Strait, a fluxgate gradiometer was used to search for changes in both susceptibility and permanent magnetism.

In essence, magnetic surveys detect three kinds of things at archaeology sites.

First, higher concentrations of organic debris, such as in pit features or house basins, will have a higher magnetic susceptibility than surrounding soils due to microbial action, as outlined in Chapter 4. Second, burned objects and sediments also tend to be highly magnetic because of a humanly induced change to their remanent magnetism. Thus, most kinds of thermal features can be detected, including hearths, earth ovens, and other kinds of household facilities that might contain burned sediment like trash dumps. Of course, natural burning from phenomena such as lightening strikes also creates magnetic anomalies near the surface. Finally, some objects naturally have high remanent, or permanent, magnetism due to the manner in which they were produced or the minerals they contain. Some kinds of igneous rocks, especially those containing magnetite, can be particularly magnetic. Such is the case with some of the cobble-to-boulder sized rocks that occur naturally at Strait.

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Magnetic survey was used at the Strait site in two areas (see Fig. B.27) for two purposes. In the plowed field east of the unplowed tract the magnetic survey was used in an attempt to identify any remaining sub-plowzone cultural features that could be excavated and act as a compliment to the surface collected data. Two smaller areas were also surveyed within the unplowed area, both in the vicinity of excavation the Block 2-

Cluster 6 area (see Fig. B.61 for Cluster 6 location). Figure B.65 is a display of the processed magnetic data from the two small areas near excavation Block 2. The 10 by 10 meter block adjacent to excavation Block 2 was conducted specifically to aid in identifying the extent of the structure encountered during excavations in this area. The 20 by 20 meter block just to the north served as an exploratory technique to identify possible subsurface household cluster facilities. Despite the large amount of debris found during shovel testing in this area, these magnetic data shown in Figure B.65 contain the magnetic signatures of very few possible cultural features.

In Figure B.66 an interpretive layer overlays the processed magnetic data. Also shown are the locations of the shovel tests (small, filled red circles) and the boundaries of the artifact clusters (dashed and light blue). The magnetic survey took place approximately 4-5 years after the shovel tests were excavated in this area. At the time the shovel tests were excavated, a magnetic survey was not anticipated and therefore sediment from the shovel tests was simply screened right onto the ground surface. As is evident in Figure B.66, even after 4-5 years the locations of the shovel tests still have a detectable magnetic signature, especially in those areas where more sediment was left on the surface after backfilling the shovel test holes. Thus, a fair number of the smaller magnetic anomalies in this area are related to the disturbances resulting from the shovel

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testing. Nevertheless, four possible magnetic anomalies of a more ancient origin (marked by white and numbered 1-4) were found. One of these, Anomaly #1 was uncovered in part by Excavation Unit D. Prior to excavation, I anticipated that Anomaly #1 was the magnetic signature of a large cooking pit, probably filled with fire-cracked rock. Upon excavation, a large boulder was found in the middle of the anomaly. This boulder was encircled by reddened subsoil but no intact feature was detected during excavation. Based on the presence of the fire-reddened subsoil, Anomaly #1 probably resulted from the intense heat of a surface hearth. The boulder may have been used as activity area furniture or perhaps it aided in activities performed within the surface hearth (e.g., cooking). Anomalies 2-4 have yet to be tested. However, given their size and magnetic intensity, they likely represent small pit features.

In the area of the Block 2 structure, the magnetic data seem to contain evidence of the structure wall, as indicated by the red-dashed line in Figure B.66. Excavation Unit C examined a small anomaly east of the wall location but no cultural feature was found.

The source of the magnetic anomaly was not identified.

In general, the magnetic survey identified surprisingly few potential subsurface features in this area of the site. If Anomaly 2 is a pit feature, and if it predates the accumulation of refuse in this area (Cluster 6), this suggests that large refuse dumps grew over time to the point where they took over areas once used for different purposes. The relatively low number of possible subsurface features in the magnetic data also emphasize the importance of testing these surface dumps. At least in the area surveyed with the magnetometer, no large pits are present within which the household could have

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deposited their trash. Therefore, nearly all of the material remains of household activities were deposited in surface refuse dumps.

The magnetic survey conducted in the plowed field east of the unplowed area of

Strait was also sparse in promising magnetic anomalies (Fig. B.67). In this area more magnetic readings were collected per meter (32) than in the unplowed area (16) in an effort to identify possible structure remains (i.e., postholes). A number of possible candidates, represented by the small positive anomalies, are evident in the data. These small anomalies seem especially clustered in the southwest portion of the survey block.

In fact, some of them even seem to occur in a line at an even interval. For this reason I focused the ground-truthing excavations in this block predominantly on the small anomalies in the southwest corner of the survey area.

Excavation Units F-K were excavated over a selection of small, positive anomalies I thought might represent postholes (Fig. B.68). Only Excavation Unit G encountered a possible cultural feature (Feature 20). Feature 20 is was a small oval stain of slightly darker sediment about 12 cm across with few small pieces of charcoal and peds of burned earth. In profile the feature was only about six centimeters deep with a flat bottom. I tentatively interpret this feature as a posthole. No anomaly was identified in

Unit F. Unit H and J contained the remains of burned tree roots. Unit I encountered a rusted horseshoe and in Unit K a very magnetic boulder was found buried about 30 centimeters below surface, at the base of the plowzone.

Although the magnetic anomaly testing in this area of the site only uncovered one possible posthole, four other magnetic anomalies may represent subsurface pit features.

Anomaly 5, which is nearly 2 meters in diameter, may represent a large earth oven that

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has been cleaned out, and Anomalies 6-8 may be small pit features. Given the lack of surface artifacts found in this area during surface survey, the presence of possible features in this area of the site is unexpected. Clearly the many years of plowing and artifact collecting have made the archaeological signature of this part of the site nearly invisible to surface surveyors.

Electrical Resistivity Survey

Electrical resistivity surveys on archaeological sites measure the impedance of electrical current flow in the near surface. The ground’s ability to conduct electricity is related to a number of factors, including porosity, permeability, saturation (with moisture), and the chemical nature of entrapped fluids (especially how rich they are in free ions) (Heimmer and De Vore 1995). Many human activities involved in the formation of the archaeological record affect these factors. In particular, electrical resistivity meters are sensitive to site formation processes that inhibit the flow moisture.

Areas of compaction, such as house floors and recurrently used activity areas, are likely to appear in the data as resistant areas, unless recent rains cause moisture to pool on top of these features. Likewise, areas that regularly trap moisture, such as buried ditches, semi-subterranean structures, and large pit features, will be detected as areas of low resistance.

The electrical resistivity survey at Strait was conducted concurrently with the shovel testing program and I hoped it would reveal larger scale trends across the site, such as the location of highly prepared areas (e.g., activity areas and possible communal areas). The survey area contained a mixed vegetation cover—part grass and part tress

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with limited undergrowth. Existing vegetation at the time of an electrical resistivity survey can, and does, have a major impact on the survey results as some plants, such as trees, highly impact soil moisture content. Despite the affects of a varied vegetation cover, I obtained some interesting results at the Strait site using electrical resistivity.

Figure B.69 is a map of the processed electrical resistivity data collected in the unplowed area of the site with an overlay of the local topography. The survey covered almost nine 20 by 20 meter blocks, with one reading collected per meter along transects spaced one meter apart. Very clear anomalies are present in the data. First, it is evident that soil resistivity seems to increase with subtle elevation changes. This is not unexpected as the higher areas should be better drained and have less moisture. These areas also correspond to the location of the trees in the unplowed tract. Despite these natural sources for resistivity anomalies, a number of useful cultural anomalies appear in the resistivity data as well.

Figure B.70 shows the electrical resistivity data with an interpretive overlay. The solid white lines indicate the location of distinctive, large-scale changes in soil resistivity.

The edges of the communal area are readily apparent as a resistivity low. This is no doubt caused by the truncated A horizon in this area, which seems to inhibit water drainage.

This area is also somewhat lower in elevation than the surrounding artifact-rich areas.

Along the northwest corner of the survey area the resistivity increases dramatically, demarcating an area that is fairly eroded and well-drained. The opposite effect is apparent in the topographically lower northeast corner of the data, where moisture accumulates and artifact density is low.

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One of the more intriguing results of the electrical resistivity survey is the possible resistivity signature of a structure in block E260, N440. One of the larger-scale excavation blocks, Block 1, was dug in this area two years prior to the electrical resistivity survey. It exposed one posthole and one pit feature. At the time it was not known if a structure had been found. However, the electrical resistivity data seem to suggest that a structure is present in the Block 1 area. The white dashed lines approximate the boundaries of the subrectangular resistivity anomaly. The southern boundary of the anomaly closely matches the location of the posthole found in excavation Block 1. The size of the anomaly is also consistent with the partial structure uncovered in excavation

Block 2 and potentially detected in the magnetic survey in that area.

A number of other possible structure areas are also highlighted in Figure B.70.

These interpretations assume that other structures will appear in terms of size and electrical resistivity properties like the one possibly uncovered in Excavation Block 1.

These possible structures can only be confirmed through additional excavation.

Nevertheless, the electrical resistivity survey provides good evidence of at least one structure and possibly several others.

In an attempt to identify possible activity areas, the electrical resistivity data were compared to the shovel test data. Surprisingly, only the distribution of lithic objects matched the resistivity data to any degree. In Figure B.70 the contours laid over the resistivity data show the number of lithic objects per shovel test. Assuming that some of the lithic clusters could be activity areas, as suggested earlier in this chapter, it follows that these areas (if habitually used in prehistory) might have a slightly higher degree of compaction than the surrounding area. Interestingly, the three major peaks in lithic

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objects in this area (which correspond to Clusters 4, 7, and 12 in Fig. B.63) also exhibit an elevated electrical resistivity. The co-occurrence of higher resistivity anomalies with clusters of lithic debris supports the interpretation that these clusters represent recurrently-used areas for activities related to lithic reduction. Most surprisingly, the two refuse dumps that intersect the resistivity data (Clusters 6 and 11 in Fig. B.63) do not seem to have an unusual resistivity signature. The results of this electrical resistivity survey suggest that additional resistivity survey could help detect some components of household clusters.

Block Excavation and Features

Two goals determined the placement of the remaining excavation units and blocks not involved in ground-truthing geophysical anomalies. First, the two large excavation blocks (Blocks 1 and 2) were excavated in an attempt to identify dwellings. Second, smaller units were excavated in two of the refuse dumps (Clusters 6 and 11) to ascertain whether or not the shovel test data, because of the small volume of each test, were biased against rare objects. Furthermore, Excavation Unit E was excavated as a long trench in an effort to detect stratigraphy within the refuse dump. Space does not permit a detailed examination of the materials recovered during the block excavations. However, I briefly review of the findings because they confirm some of the predictions about site structure generated from the shovel test data.

Excavation Block 1 is situated along the southern edge of Cluster 11 (Fig. B.28), a large refuse dump. This location was chosen because of the contrast between the

Cluster 11 high artifact density and the much lower artifact density just to the south of it.

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Also, one of the shovel tests in this area intersected a posthole. At the time (1997) I anticipated that structures such as dwellings would be located adjacent to high-density clusters, rather than beneath them.

Figure B.71 shows a plan view of the Block 1 excavation results. Two cultural features were encountered in the 9m2 excavated area. Feature 10 is a posthole. Subsoil begins at about 23 cm below surface here and Feature 10 extended down an additional 17 cm into the subsoil.

Feature 1, a broad, shallow pit feature, is the only other cultural feature identified in Block 1. Like Feature 10, it also began about 23 cm below surface and extended down an additional 15 cm into the subsoil. Feature 1 contained large amounts of fire-cracked rock and numerous pottery sherds, including one limestone-and-grit tempered refit sherd

(16 cm max length) from a vertically cordmarked vessel. Bladelet fragments were found in both Feature 1 and Feature10, and, combined with a third century A.D. radiocarbon date, indicate that these features date to the late Middle Woodland period. When combined with the electrical resistivity data, Features 1 and 10 seem to be a portion of a dwelling and its associated facilities. The shovel test debris distribution data accurately predict the location of this structure.

Excavation Block 2 is located about 60 meters west of the structure found in

Block 1. The location of this block was also determined using the presence of a nearby artifact cluster (Cluster 6) and a posthole intersected during shovel testing. In all, a 21m2 area was uncovered in Block 2 revealing 15 cultural features. In the Block 2 area subsoil was encountered at about 22-30 cm below surface. As discussed below, the possible

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dwelling remains partially exposed in Block 2 are covered by a slightly thicker layer of debris and a slightly higher number of artifacts per 1m2 than found in Block 1.

The probable household cluster remains uncovered in Block 2 consist of postholes and a pit feature (Fig. B.72). The line of five postholes along the north side of the excavation block is interpreted as the exterior wall of a structure. The inter-post spacing of this wall averages 106.7 cm with a standard deviation of 10.4 cm. This is consistent with known structures from Middle-Late Woodland period settlements in central and southern Ohio, which have an average interpost spacing of 110.6 cm (see Table 2.3). The postholes at Strait were homogenous in size (diameter 17-20 cm) and depth below the subsoil/midden interface (30 cm). The exterior postholes contained few objects other than small charcoal fragments.

Nine probable interior postholes were found. In general, these interior posts were more varied and slightly smaller in diameter (10-15 cm) and depth (5-33 cm) than the exterior postholes. Some are small (e.g., F7, F8ext., and F18) and may have held supports for interior furniture. Others are the same size as the exterior posts and probably supported the structure roof. While the probable support posts look to be paired, it is more likely that the pairing represents rebuilding efforts. This is suggested by the large amount of refuse that was found in the interior postholes. For example, the cluster of features in the F6-F8 area seems to be the remains of two dug-out postholes from which the posts were removed, probably while the structure was still occupied. Once the posts were removed, the open postholes were packed full of domestic refuse, including a large rim section of a plain-surfaced, and possibly slipped, vessel, as well as burned bone, wood and nut charcoal, a sandstone gorget fragment, and a large flake (9 x 2.5 cm). A

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similar variety of refuse was also found in F37. Feature 19 is unusual in that it only extends about 4 cm into the subsoil and seems to be the bottom of a post that was burned in place. The large amounts of refuse in these interior posts could alternatively constitute debris used for chinking the posts, as has been found with other Middle-Late Woodland structures, such as at Harness-28 (Mark Seeman, Personal Communication 2003).

Like Feature 1 in Block 1, Feature 4 is a shallow basin located next to the exterior wall of a structure. Feature 4 did not contain as much fire-cracked rock as Feature 1, but it was packed full of burned hickory nut shell and numerous other seeds, including sunflower (Helianthus annuus) and knotweed (Polygonum spp.). This feature was probably used for cooking or heating, though its edges were not intensely reddened. A large amount of fire-cracked rock was found in the excavation units west of the feature, suggesting that the rock might have been cleaned out of the pit and left on the floor of the structure.

Very few rodent burrows were found in the Block 2 area. The burrow marked as

“RR” in Figure B.72 seems to intersect the line of exterior posts, suggesting that perhaps the rodent excavated it under the wall of the structure. The burrow was filled with organic rich sediment, fire-cracked rock, and even a fragment of a projectile point. Perhaps the burrow was intentionally filled in by the human occupants of the structure.

Bladelets were found in a number of the postholes and in Feature 4. Three radiocarbon dates from this structure overlap with the date from Feature 1. Burned hickory nutshell from Feature 4 produced the calibrated dates of A.D. 225±40 and A.D.

410±50. The posthole (F16) found beneath Feature 6, which contained the large numbers of objects mentioned earlier, produced a calibrated date of A.D. 258 (283, 287, 300,

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320)±70. Together, the dates and the kinds of artifacts found in Blocks 1 and 2 suggest that these two structures were occupied concurrently. However, much more work is needed to demonstrate this conclusively.

In addition to the structure remains uncovered in Blocks 1 and 2, the 1 by 4 meter trench (excavation Unit E) excavated in the Cluster 11 refuse dump also encountered some possible structural remains. Figure B.73 presents a plan view of the bottom of excavation Unit E. A number of small soil discolorations probably resulting from natural disturbances were found. A possible line of postholes (Features 25-31) cuts across the southern half of the trench. None were excavated. Feature 31 had a number of large bone fragments protruding from it, including a long bone shaft and a possible distal femur fragment, both probably from deer. A small mammal skeleton, largely intact and partially articulated, lay on the other side of the trench from Feature 31. All features and the small mammal skeleton were found at about 28-32 cm below surface, beneath abundant Middle

Woodland period refuse.

While no distinctive soil horizons were evident in the Excavation Unit E profile, the artifacts were roughly sorted into layers based on their size and material class. In general, small objects, including numerous bladelet fragments, were found throughout the trench. The size and amount of fire-cracked rock increased dramatically in the 10-20 cm level. At about 20 cm below surface larger pottery sherds increased in number and large, unburned animal bones and fragments began to appear. Artifact frequency and size dropped off below the animal bone fragments. Debris density and thickness increased from south to north in the trench. In sum, assuming that some of the soil discolorations in the bottom of excavation Unit E are postholes, it is possible that a structure was

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abandoned here and then used as a loci of refuse disposal. First to be dumped in the area were animal bones. Then refuse containing large pottery sherds and vast amounts of fire- cracked rock were added onto the growing refuse pile. All kinds of other refuse, from cooking and activity area cleaning, were also dumped in this area.

The results of the excavations in Units A and B conducted in artifact Cluster 6, a possible formal refuse dump, are consistent in terms of artifact diversity and density with the excavations in Cluster 11 (Excavation Unit E), another probable secondary refuse dump. Notably lacking was bone. Table A.7 summarizes artifact class frequencies and weights found in all excavation units. In Table 7.11 the raw counts from Table A.7 are standardized to estimate the number and/or weight of objects per 1m2 in each of the excavation unit areas. The standardized figures take into account soil samples yet to be processed for flotation.

As expected, the excavation units located in refuse dumps yielded the highest number of objects per 1m2. Fire-cracked rock frequency is especially elevated in the refuse areas. This pattern is more apparent in the bar graph shown in Figure B.74. Fire- cracked rock comprises a smaller portion of the artifact assemblages in the structure areas than in the other areas tested. The Block 2 fire-cracked rock relative frequency is elevated because the Cluster 6 refuse dump extends up to the edge of and slightly overlaps the structure. It may also be high because of the large amount of FCR present in the northwest corner of the structure, which may have been cleaned out of Feature 4 and left on the structure floor. This pattern of fire-cracked rock frequency matches that found in the shovel test data—much more fire-crack rock was deposited in the refuse dumps than elsewhere.

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Excava. Blocks & Units Interpreted Function Function Interpreted Debitage Bladelets Flake Tools Projectile Point Frags Ceramic Sherds Bone Rock Fire-cracked Groundstone # Cluster Volume Excavated(L)* Standardizing Multiplier for 1x1 Total 1 Structure Area 256.9 1.5 0.3 2.6 127.6 0.3 86.5 0 475.7 - 2510 0.11 2 Structure Area 258.8 6.1 1.3 2.9 153.5 0.6 391.3 0.1 814.6 - 6137 0.049 A Refuse Dump 692.6 16.4 0 3.3 700.3 20.8 2179.9 2.2 3615.5 6 456 1.096 B Refuse Dump 762.8 19.7 5.5 6.5 765 12.1 1961.8 0 3533.4 6 456 1.096 C Toft Zone 155.4 3.2 2.2 0 86.3 0 329.1 0 576.2 - 278 1.079 Toft 215.8 5.8 5.3 1.6 278.8 1.6 646.4 0 1155.3 - 645 0.54 D Zone/Hearth E Refuse Dump 613.2 25.9 3.1 6.1 1009.9 319.6 1636.6 0.3 3614.7 11 1512 0.265 Unknown- 179 21.8 1.1 0 0.7 5.1 0 100.1 0.2 129 - 1005 0.22 F-K Plowed Field

Table 7.12: Standardized frequencies of important artifact classes recovered during block excavation.

Another interesting pattern is the nearly even representation of pottery across each of the areas tested with the excavation units. Because heating rock in a fire (making FCR) and producing and maintaining stone tools generate more debris on a regular basis than the use and production of pottery, I expected that pottery relative frequencies would be lower in dump areas than in the structure areas. Instead, the structure area relative frequencies for pottery are roughly equivalent to those in the refuse dumps. One explanation might be that the sherd counts in the refuse areas are elevated because they reflect the regular dumping of highly fragmented pottery. This is supported by the similar relative frequency of pottery size classes in the refuse dumps and in the structure areas.

Broken pottery vessels seem to have experienced continued fragmentation through trampling, perhaps, before they were cleaned up and dumped in formal piles of secondary refuse. Conversely, the even distribution of pottery relative frequencies between dumps and structure areas may be the result of large amounts of broken pottery that may have been discarded along structure walls or under furniture in provisional discard zones, as suggested by the household cluster model.

The excavation unit data also suggest that the bone distribution pattern revealed by the shovel testing is not related to sampling error (i.e., too few tests of a small size to find rare objects), which was suggested as a possibility earlier in this chapter. Bone was only found in abundance in the Cluster 11 refuse dump, despite extensive excavations in other areas. This pattern of bone distribution could be related to a preservation bias or it could be the result of behavioral patterns specific to the use and deposition of bone refuse. For example, perhaps one of the household clusters using the Cluster 11 dump did not burn their refuse as much as other household clusters, leaving behind larger amounts

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of intact, unburned bone. Another possibility is that the households contributing waste to other refuse dumps did not bring bones into their household areas, perhaps leaving them in other areas within or outside the settlement.

In summary, the information recovered from the excavation units shows that the patterns of site structure and artifact distribution found through shovel testing hold up well when the volume of sediment excavated is increased. Structures were found in lower density artifact areas adjacent to high-density refuse dumps. Cluster 11 possibly covers the remains of another structure. Perhaps the unusual abundance of debris in this cluster reflects its long use as dwelling site and refuse dump.

One final line of evidence supports the conclusion that the shovel test sampling strategy was successful in obtaining a representative sample of artifacts in the areas tested. Asch (1975) suggests that the total volume of sediment excavated within a sampling area is not the most important factor in acquiring representative samples.

Rather, the most important factor is the number and distribution of the sampling units.

Nevertheless, smaller sample units such as shovel tests can result in the low recovery rate of rare objects. This was not a problem at the Strait site. Shovel testing produced as many rare ceramic objects, for example, as were recovered through the test unit excavations.

Figure B.31 includes illustrations of most of the rare ceramic objects found to date at the

Strait site. Approximately half of these were found in shovel tests.

Surface Collection

The number of objects recovered during the surface collection is disappointing based on the vast amounts of objects found in the unplowed area. Figure B.75 is a

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distribution map showing the location of surface collected objects. Lithic debitage is the most widespread artifact class found in the plowed field, followed closely by FCR. There is a clear separation in space between the objects adjacent to the unplowed area and the objects to the south and east along the field boundary. This latter group of objects probably does not date to the third century A.D. In fact, this area produced Archaic period objects during an uncontrolled surface collection in 1983.

While Middle Woodland period debris was found during the surface collection, its density hardly seems indicative of year-round occupation in a nucleated settlement. The lower than expected density of debris found in the plowed field is a function of three important factors, all of which have implications for the study of other Middle-Late

Woodland period settlements in the region.

First, if the artifacts recovered in the unplowed area of the settlement are any indication of what used to be present in the plowed areas, plowing truly causes extensive damage to the archaeological record of Middle-Late Woodland settlements. It differentially destroys certain material classes (bone and pottery) while leaving others relatively unharmed (lithics and fire-cracked rock). This was the case for the artifacts recovered from the excavation units conducted over magnetic anomalies in the plowed field. Very few non-durable objects were found. Second, artifact collecting in the past has thinned out larger objects in the plowzone. The landowners of the Strait site recall a time when artifact collectors would camp out at the site for the weekend and leave with five gallon buckets full of artifacts. Most archaeological sites in the region have experienced similar effects from artifact collection. Third, although transect survey may be useful for identifying the location of artifact clusters, it cannot provide a large enough sample of

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objects to adequately characterize site structure. A cell-based system in which all objects within a unit of space are collected (e.g., 5x5 meter unit) is probably required to produce enough artifacts to study variability in intrasite artifact patterning. Conversely, though much more tedious to perform, a shovel test survey could also be used. Moreover, shovel testing would help overcome the size-sorted nature of plowzone surface samples (Baker

1978).

Defining Settlement Structure at the Strait Site

Six possible household clusters and one communally maintained space can be defined at the Strait site based on the work presented in this dissertation. Each household cluster likely consists of a dwelling, a number of nearby activity areas with adjacent provisional discard zones, and a large formal refuse dump. The formal refuse dumps are the most archaeologically visible portion of the household clusters at Strait.

Figure B.76 summarizes the location of household clusters at the site. Household

Clusters 1, 2, 3, and 5 are identified using extensive shovel testing, geophysical survey, and block excavation. Based on the 1983 surface collection data, Household Cluster 1 probably extends out into the plowed field south of the unplowed area, where relatively dense concentrations of lithic debris and ceramic debris were found. In 1985 an amateur archaeology group excavated portions of the topographic rise on which Cluster 4 is located. They recovered large amounts of debris from a thick deposit of refuse. This deposit of refuse is what gave this landform a mound-like appearance. The 1985 excavations probably intersected another formal refuse dump. Cluster 6 is hypothetical and its location is indicated by a concentration of surface objects found during transect

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survey. More work is needed to confirm that Cluster 6 is household cluster. The 1983 surface collection data reveal additional areas of clustering to the south and west of the unplowed area. In Figure B.76 these are marked with question marks.

A distinctive artifact-free zone is also present in the unplowed area of the site. In fact, some of the household clusters seem to be gathered around this possible communal area. The 1983 surface collections clearly show this artifact-free zone extending into the plowed field south of the shovel tested area.

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CHAPTER 8

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

Settlement data from Middle (200 B.C.-A.D. 400) to Late Woodland (A.D. 400-

1000) period contexts in the Middle Ohio Valley reveal a major change in household and community organization. Small, dispersed Middle Woodland habitation sites of just a few households (Dancey and Pacheco 1997; Pacheco 1993) became large, nucleated early

Late Woodland villages composed of many households (Carskadden and Morton 1996;

Dancey 1992, 1998; Maslowski 1985; Railey 1984; Seeman 1980, 1992a; Seeman and

Dancey 2000; Shott 1990; Wymer 1993). Dancey (1992) has hypothesized that this process of community nucleation emerged in some areas of the region during the third century A.D. Archaeological data from early Late Woodland settlements indicate that this pattern did not become widespread until about A.D. 500. In most areas the decline, end, or lack of the Hopewell phenomenon coincided with this process of community nucleation.

Numerous examples of early Late Woodland period villages from across the region have been studied. However, very few settlements from the early part of this nucleation process are known. This dissertation attempts to fill this gap in the

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archaeological record of community pattern change. New data from the Strait site, a third century A.D. nucleated settlement in central Ohio, support Dancey’s (1988, 1992, 1998) model of Middle-Late Woodland period community nucleation.

Through comparison with a model of household refuse accumulation patterns developed from the work of Schiffer (1972, 1976, 1985, 1987) and ethnoarchaeological data (predominantly Deal 1998; DeBoer and Lathrap 1979; Hayden and Cannon 1983;

Murray 1980), I proposed that the patterns of artifact deposition found at the Strait site resulted from regular, household-scale refuse disposal behaviors. These regularities, or principles, of refuse disposal produced accumulations of refuse in five kinds of settings within household clusters: (1) dwelling floors, (2) other (outdoor) activity areas, (3) provisional discard zones, (4) formal dumps, (5) within discrete features such as pits, and

(6) as objects scattered across the settlement. I focused on identifying three of these refuse accumulation areas at the Strait site (activity areas, provisional discard zones, and formal refuse dumps) using a distributional analysis of artifact patterning along four dimensions of artifact variability: size, density, function, and diversity.

Twenty artifact clusters were found in the areas tested at Strait. Based on their artifact size, density, function, and diversity, these clusters are found to be consistent with the expected artifact patterns of five different kinds of household cluster components: (1) formal refuse dumps, (2) provisional discard zones, (3) activity areas-pottery related, (4) activity areas-lithics related, and (5) activity areas-all purpose. Based on the distribution of these potential household cluster components, I hypothesize that there are 5-6 household clusters present in the area tested through shovel testing at the Strait site.

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Excavation data and geophysical survey data support the interpretations that I first generated from the shovel test distribution data.

If the numerous artifact clusters at the Strait site represent household clusters and if these household clusters were occupied contemporaneously, as the analysis presented here suggests, then the Strait site is one of the earliest nucleated Middle Woodland period communities in Ohio. The results of this research have a number of implications for Ohio archaeology and the study of changing Woodland period community organization between A.D. 200 and A.D. 500. In the remainder of this dissertation I consider the implications of the Strait site findings in the context of the existing models of Middle-

Late Woodland period settlement pattern change.

An Integrated Model of Middle-Late Woodland Period Settlement Change in Central and Southern Ohio

Such a major change in community organization, from dispersed households across the landscape to a nucleation of households in one settlement, begs the question of origin. Why did populations aggregate and where did aggregation first occur? In the past, archaeologists have proposed that nucleation was the result of population growth fueled by maize agriculture—for example, Fuller’s (1986) work with Late Woodland-Late

Prehistoric settlements in the panhandle region of West Virginia. But maize was not common in the Middle Ohio Valley until the end of the Woodland period (Wymer 1992).

A number of researchers suggest that a growing need for defense may have precipitated settlement nucleation and the construction of villages circumscribed by ditches and perhaps stockades (Railey 1991; Seeman and Dancey 2000). Dancey (1992)

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supports this possibility and has suggested that the earliest nucleated settlements occurred as early as the third century A.D. in areas peripheral to core Hopewell earthwork centers.

However, few nucleated settlements from the third century A.D. have been identified.

Given the results of the Strait site investigations, where chronological and cultural indicators were found to cross-cut taxonomic boundaries, I propose that the lack of additional evidence in support of the process of community nucleation has been perpetuated by inconsistencies in existing chronological and cultural taxonomies used in the region. Specifically, the existing taxonomic units used in the region (time periods and cultural units, including Adena, Hopewell, and Newtown) have obscured important changes that were happening between A.D. 200-A.D. 500.

The existence of late Adena sites (post A.D. 1) in peripheral Hopewell areas and their potential importance in the process of settlement nucleation is an example of how existing taxonomies may be perpetuating the lack of data related to the process of settlement nucleation. Because nucleation is closely linked in time to the decline of

Hopewellianism and the beginning of the Late Woodland period, few researchers have looked to data from earlier culture historical taxa, for example “Adena” populations, for evidence of settlement nucleation. Most archaeologists associate Adena with the Early

Woodland period2, which is commonly held to end between 200 B.C. and A.D. 1 (Clay

1998; Seeman 1986). Admittedly, A.D. 1 predates the occupation of the Strait site by at least 200 years. However, the close association of the taxonomic concepts of “Adena” and Early Woodland has biased archaeologists against some very late Adena dates that may be important to understanding the decline of Hopewell groups and the origin of household nucleation.

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To further explore this avenue of thought, I juxtapose a few observations that potentially throw light on the origins of nucleated settlement in central Ohio and the role that the Strait site inhabitants might have played in this change.

Observation 1: While most nucleated Woodland settlements date to A.D. 500 or later, a small sample from across the region has yielded early dates (see Table 6.1 for the relevant radiocarbon information for these dates). South of the Ohio River the Pyles and

Hansen sites have produced calibrated radiocarbon dates as early as A.D. 445 and 423, respectively (Railey 1984; Ahler 1988). Near Dayton, Ohio, the Lichliter site (Allman

1967) dates to A.D. 439 (Crane and Griffin 1959). At the far eastern reaches of the Scioto

Valley the Strait site has produced dates that range from A.D. 220 to 410 (Burks 2001).

Carskadden and Morton (1996) report finding the remains of the Philo II Lower Village, an early A.D. nucleated settlement with bladelets and Lowe cluster projectile points, under the remains of a Late Prehistoric village in the Middle Muskingum Valley3.

All of the sites just mentioned are thought to represent nucleations of contemporaneous households. At Strait, bladelets and Lowe Cluster projectile points are common and decorated Hopewell ceramics and other Hopewell exotica are nearly absent.

Interestingly, all these sites are peripheral to core Hopewell areas and many are located far from known Hopewell earthwork centers. Strait and Lichliter do not fit comfortably in existing Hopewell or early Late Woodland taxa because of their radiocarbon dates, large size, and abundant artifact types that are atypical for Middle Woodland assemblages (e.g., rough slate disks and abundant Lowe Cluster projectile points).

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Calibrated Site Lab # RCYBP Intercept 2 sigma range Armitage Mounda Beta 27705 1880±90 AD 128 50 BC-AD 380 Armitage Mounda SMU 2161 1810±45 AD 236 AD 83-340 Connett Mound 4b DIC 2859B* 1790±50 AD 240 AD 88-384 Hansenc Beta 15082 1630±90 AD 421 AD 235-436 Lichliterd M537 1600±125 AD 430 AD 132-664 Linn 7e I17126 1850±80 AD 133 36 BC-AD 383 Linn 7e I17127 1780±80 AD 243 AD 68-426 Locustf ETH 3070 1870±75 AD 129 AD 38-339 Locustf SMU 1868 1832±146 AD 180, 189, 214 168 BC-AD 538 Osborn Moundg Beta 71531 1870±60 AD 129 AD 4-321 Pylesh na 1590±120 AD 433 AD 179-664 Straiti Beta 147063 1820±40 AD 223 AD 83-324 Straiti Beta 147064 1650±50 AD 412 AD 258-537 Straiti Beta 147065 1750±70 AD 258, 283, 287,300, 320 AD 132-415 Straiti Beta-147066 1820±100 AD 223 AD 38-426 a Abrams 1992a; b Skinner 1985; c Ahler 1988; d Crane and Griffin 1959; e Carskadden and Morton 1996; f Carr and Hass 1996; g Carskadden and Morton 1996; h Railey 1984; i Burks 2001 * In her original publication Skinner (1985:140) warns that this “…date may have been affected by a high root content and should be viewed with caution.”

Table 8.1. Radiocarbon dates from select “Late Adena” and early aggregated settlements.

Observation 2: In central Ohio (Fig. B.77), outside and at the edges of core Hopewell

areas, “Adena” like behaviors persist until A.D. 200-300 (Greber 1991). A number of

mound contexts in the Hocking and Muskingum Valleys have produced radiocarbon

dates well into the second and third centuries A.D., including Osborn Mound (A.D. 123)

(Carskadden and Morton 1996, Table 19:1), Connett Mound 4 (A.D. 160) (Skinner

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1985), and the Armitage Mound (A.D. 118, 120, 200) (Abrams 1992a). Habitation sites with similarly late dates, such as the sites of Locust (A.D. 115 and 151) (Carr and Hass

1996) and Linn 7 (A.D. 134) (Carskadden and Morton 1996, Table 19:1), are also known.

There are as yet too few sites with these late dates to note any patterns (e.g., whether they cluster near to early nucleated settlements). However, I am not yet aware of any such late dates for so-called Adena sites in core Hopewell areas, as in Ross County, Ohio, for example.

Observation 3: Populations of “Adena” began to occupy settlements that left a larger footprint as early as A.D. 1 in the Hocking Valley (Blackwell 1979; Abrams 1992b).

Abrams (1992b) suggests that Adena settlement patterns began to change in the Plains area of the Hocking Valley by about A.D. 1, when groups left the hinterlands to take up residence in large river bottom settlements. Conversely, in the Muskingum Valley,

Carskadden and Morton (1997) have found that hinterland occupation increased after

A.D. 1, especially in the areas adjacent to heavily used Hopewell territory, as in the

Jonathan Creek area, which was mentioned in Chapter 4. The headwaters of Jonathan

Creek are just a few kilometers away from the Strait site. Carskadden and Morton have also found that many Adena sites in the river bottoms show a great time depth of continued reoccupation from 400 B.C to A.D 100.

To more fully understand Woodland period settlement nucleation, archaeologists need to focus their investigations on the areas traditionally thought of as peripheral in our temporal and geographic taxonomies. This will require conducting more research in uplands—away from the main river valleys. These areas may be where the process of

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settlement nucleation first appears, in the context of peripheral “Hopewell” and “Adena” group interactions, initiating a trend that eventually sweeps through much of central and south central Ohio.

Because archaeologists identify aggregation as an early Late Woodland phenomenon, they seldom (if ever) look for mechanisms of change at settlements grouped into the Early Woodland taxa. In some areas of central and south central Ohio, the three Woodland subperiods and their associated cultural units seem to overlap at about A.D. 200-300—just the time when some of the most elaborate Hopewell mortuary ceremonialism is happening in the Ross County area. This overlap is currently not consistently reflected in existing taxonomies and as a consequence its importance is under-emphasized. Similar issues with the Woodland period taxonomy occur in northeastern Kentucky, where researchers have simply dropped the Hopewell taxon in many cases (e.g., Railey 1991).

Once archaeologists begin to look more closely at peripheral areas, both in time and space, I think they will find that contemporaneous populations of “Adena” and

“Hopewell” were more common than once thought (Greber 1991; Otto 1979).

Furthermore, in central Ohio many view settlement nucleation as somehow related to, or the result of, the Hopewell decline and look for explanations intrinsic to the Hopewell.

Some of the earliest nucleated settlements are located near some of the latest so-called

Adena areas. If “Adena” populations and “Hopewell” populations really did live contemporaneously, and perhaps interact, then settlement nucleation may have been precipitated by changes in the Adena populations and their interactions with the peripheral Hopewell groups, rather than changes intrinsic to the core Hopewell

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populations. This hypothesized interaction along the margins of core Hopewell areas supports explanations that suggest that an extrinsic factor (e.g., Dancey 1992, 1998) eventually led to the decline of Hopewellianism and the emergence of nucleated village life.

Alternative Models of Middle-Late Woodland Settlement

Over thirty years ago Raymond Baby made the observation that “there is…ample evidence of various types of house structures…associated with various prehistoric Indian groups that once occupied Ohio and the Ohio Valley” (Baby 1971). And yet today, many archaeologists agree that the remains of prehistoric structures are exceptionally rare in

Ohio, especially prior to A.D. 1000. In the area of Woodland period settlement pattern research, this housing shortage has become a major point of contention (e.g., Griffin

1996; Prufer 1996). Based on the lack of houses, in part, some researchers are proposing alternative models of Middle and Late Woodland period settlement structure and its change.

Most of the alternative models focus on a key component of the settlement models outlined in Chapter 1—the evidence for permanent sedentism, or the purported lack thereof. Archaeologists have developed an array of techniques for studying sedentism and its many degrees (see Kelly 1992, 1998; Rafferty 1985). However, many

Middle Ohio Valley researchers criticize the evidence for sedentary Middle-Late

Woodland period communities using just one or two lines of evidence. These critiques also lack an appreciation for variability in the physical manifestation of households in the archaeological record.

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Three recent, and important, discussions of alternatives to the existing models of

Middle-Late Woodland period sedentism and community pattern change suggest that the

Middle Woodland and the early Late Woodland populations of the Middle Ohio Valley were mobile, hunting and gathering communities (Clay and Creasman 1999; Clay 2002,

Yerkes 1990, 2001; Lepper and Yerkes 1997; Cowan 2000). In evaluating the existing settlement models, these researchers cogently note that permanent sedentism is manifest in the archaeological record in a number of ways (Table 6.2). However, in their critiques each focuses in on a very narrow set or aspect of the criteria presented in Table 6.2.

Clay and Creasman (1999, Clay 2002) and Yerkes (2001) call specific attention to the lack of what they consider to represent significant, or “substantial enough,” structural remains at Middle-Late Woodland period sites. They point out that few clear remains of houses are present in the literature. In Chapter 2 I have very briefly attempted to provide a number of examples of structures found at Middle-Late Woodland period settlements in the region. Rather than focusing on the lack of structural remains, perhaps archaeologists should be attempting to explain their supposed absence as a factor of site formation processes. Schiffer (1987:221) notes that structures are “composite” artifacts, the different components of which undergo differing rates of deterioration and thus different formation processes. Likewise, differential structural preservation could also be a factor of cultural formation processes. For example, not all structures are simply abandoned and left to decay to the point of collapse and disappearance. Parts, or all, of some structures may have been intentionally taken down or burned during rebuilding or abandonment.

Those structures taken down (e.g., scavenged for posts) might leave a less substantial archaeological signature than those burned or left to decay.

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Evidence for Sedentism Clay and 1999 Creasman 2002 Clay Yerkes 1990, 2002 Yerkes Lepper and 1997 Cowan 2000 at the Present Strait Site at Other Present Settlements (I) Full range of seasonal subsistence indicators X X X X na X (II) Presence of storage facilities X X X X na ? (III) Presence of domestic dwellings X X X X X X (IV) Presence of larger and more complex X X X X na X structures than earlier, more mobile groups (V) Rebuilding of houses on the same location X X X X (VI) Diverse artifact assemblage indicative of a variety of procurement, maintenance, and X X X X X X X processing activities (VII) Diverse lithic tool kit X X X (VIII) Discarded tools showing signs of short- X X X X and long-term use (IX) Thick middens, i.e., generalized areas of X X X X refuse accumulation (X) Evidence of large-scale food production X X Xa X a – Sunflower and knotweed found to date, flotation processing and botanical analyses not yet completed.

Table 8.2: Expected evidence of permanent sedentism highlighted by alternative models of Middle-Late Woodland period settlement.

The affects of differential archaeological site formation processes are clearly evident when one compares the structural remains beneath Middle Woodland period mounds to structural remains in settlements. The archaeological signature of submound structural remains can be very distinctive, as evidenced by the structures found beneath the large mounds at the Liberty Earthworks (Greber 1983) and Hopewell Mound Group

(Greber and Ruhl 2000). These buildings were intentionally dismantled or burned and their remains buried, which is probably why they seem better preserved than the archaeological signatures of structures at domestic sites.

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In addition to a lack of structural remains, these alternative models of settlement argue against the idea that Hopewell groups practiced farming (Yerkes 2002). Evidence of farming has been used to support the idea that the Hopewell were sedentary (Smith

1992; Wymer 1993, 1997). In addition to arguing against hypotheses stating that the

Hopewell were farmers and thus sedentary, Yerkes (1990) and Cowan (2000) suggest that the lithic tool kit and associated debris from most Middle Woodland settlements is too limited in its diversity (both in function and morphology) to have been generated by fully sedentary populations. The results of this dissertation indicate that the Strait site inhabitants used a wide variety of lithic tools. They maintained two formal lithic tool technologies (biface and bladelet) and retouched and made use of a wide variety of flake tools. Each of these tool kit components (bladelets, bifacial tools, and flake tools) was abundant, occurred widely across the site, and was found in all of the six kinds of refuse deposition zones. Lithic production and maintenance debris was also abundant. Thus, the

Strait site lithic assemblage does not conform to the expectations of the alternative settlement model.

In summary, these researchers state that existing evidence of Middle and early

Late Woodland period households is either lacking or insufficient to support the assertion that these populations lived in permanent, year-round settlements. Instead, they suggest that the Middle Woodland and the early Late Woodland populations of the Middle Ohio

Valley were mobile, hunting and gathering communities. In particular, the lack of substantial structural remains is a primary point of argument in the debate of mobile versus sedentary Woodland period populations (e.g., Yerkes 2002; Clay 2002; Clay and

Creasman 1997).

196

One thing lacking in the alternative models is a statement about what Middle-Late

Woodland period household clusters should look like in the archaeological record.

Without a set of clear expectations, these alternative models of Middle-Late Woodland period settlement do not fully utilize the data that are available. To adequately investigate settlement and community pattern change, a better understanding of Middle-Late

Woodland period household clusters is needed. If most of the settlements that have been tested represent mere fragments of household clusters, disturbed by past and present site formation processes, are there other indications of permanently settled life that are present in our imperfectly sampled data?

The research presented in this dissertation is an attempt to better understand the formation processes of Middle-Late Woodland period household clusters. In comparison to a model of household cluster formation based on principles of refuse disposal patterns,

I hypothesize that a number of possible, contemporaneous household clusters were present at the Strait site. While structural remains were identified, the most consistent indicator of household cluster location is the presence of formal refuse dumps. At the

Strait site, these dumps contained the highest diversity of refuse in terms of size and material class. Nevertheless, they could have been identified with just one artifact class— fire-cracked rock. All of the formal refuse dumps at the Strait site contained great quantities of both large and small fragments of fire-cracked rock. Other areas of the site contained relatively little fire-cracked rock. This finding has important implications for the study of Middle-Late Woodland period settlement in that fire-cracked rock is one of the few artifact classes that is not destroyed in the plowzone or excessively collected by

197

artifact collectors. Therefore, if archaeologists are to continue to make strides in understanding Middle-Late Woodland period settlement, then they must begin to better characterize the distribution of fire-cracked rock across the landscape and within settlements. After all, if the area tested at the Strait site in this research had been plowed, and the plowzone had not been adequately sampled, very little would have been found because most of the material remains of the Strait site inhabitants were deposited on the surface in large, formal refuse dumps. Future settlement studies in the Middle Ohio

Valley must place a higher priority on identifying patterns in secondary refuse disposal. If they do not, then little new will be learned about Middle-Late Woodland period households and change in their organization.

198

END NOTES

1. Two samples of unburned bone from the large artifact cluster marked as number 11 in

Figure B.61 were sent to Beta Analytic for AMS radiocarbon assays. These AMS

dates were funded with grant money provided by Anne B. Lee, who at the time was a

graduate student in the Department of Anthropology at the Ohio State University.

These bone samples produced dates that are much later in time than expected and do

not fit the artifact content of this cluster or the site. The two dates are: (Beta-134682)

1000±40 RCYBP and (Beta-134683) 1120±40 RCYBP. Calibration of the dates to

calendar years makes them even later. At this point in the research at the Strait site

these dates are very suspect.

2. Jim Railey is a notable exception. Railey has long recognized a possible link between

Woodland period settlement aggregation and so-called Adena populations (e.g., 1991,

1996). For Railey, this linkage came into focus while studying Woodland period

settlements in northeastern Kentucky, where little evidence of the Hopewell

phenomenon exists.

199

3. No radiocarbon dates are, as of yet, associated with the Philo II Lower Village.

Carskadden and Morton (1996) rely on absolute dates from two nearby mounds that

they associate with the village. Mound B of the Philo Mound group has a calibrated

intercept date of A.D. 405 (Morton 1977) and the nearby Henderson Mound 2 dates

to A.D. 429 (Carskadden and Edmister 1992).

200

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APPENDIX A

RAW ARTIFACT FREQUENCY TOTALS PER SHOVEL TEST BLOCK

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Sample Block Class 1 Weight (g) (g) Weight 1 Class Class 2 (g) Weight Class 3 (g) Weight Class 4 (g) Weight Class 5 (g) Weight Frequency Total (g)Total Weight 1 559.2 636 3436.2 266 9615.6 12 1600.7 1 726.6 915 15938.3 2 0.5 44 377.3 68 2941.1 8 1595.9 3 2071.9 123 6986.7 3 37.7 175 1216.8 188 6228.6 31 3435 0 0 394 10918.1 4 384.2 444 2520.8 269 9757.3 28 4690.2 9 5481.4 750 22833.9 5 3.8 51 340.8 35 1115.2 3 453.8 1 1047.3 90 2960.9 6 72.8 221 1750.3 228 8977.9 20 3548.4 2 1038.9 471 15388.3 7 7.9 38 245.4 32 1060.7 2 403.5 0 0 72 1717.5 8 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

232 9 10.7 60 416.7 87 3754.6 12 1752.9 3 1803.2 162 7738.1 10 1.7 9 80.6 7 175.8 0 0 0 0 16 258.1 11 11.4 33 271.9 26 884 1 86.1 0 0 60 1253.4 12 15.3 163 1213.2 180 6593.1 11 1783.3 2 2162.4 356 11767.3 13 84 671 4814.5 624 22024.2 37 5326.6 2 1238.4 1334 33487.7 14 1.2 44 360.4 62 2142.7 3 320.8 0 0 109 2825.1 15 263.2 376 2201.3 257 9285.6 17 2847.7 1 452.9 651 15050.7 16 150.1 217 1316.5 146 4917.5 6 1060.8 2 3630.1 371 11075 17 194.9 320 1908.7 129 4122.4 8 1520.5 0 0 457 7746.5 18 226 274 1473.3 117 3469.2 6 1058.4 0 0 397 6226.9 19 208.9 284 1626.2 117 3631.3 7 931 1 443.8 409 6841.2 20 100 196 1191.5 81 2785.8 5 878.5 2 2471.4 284 7427.2 21 97.8 297 1843.2 160 5025.6 7 1311.1 2 1247.1 466 9524.8 Total 2431.3 4553 28605.6 3079 108508.2 224 34605.2 31 23815.4 7887 197965.7

Table A.1: Fire-cracked rock raw frequency per shovel test block.

Sample Block Size Class 1 (g) Weight Size Class 2 (g) Weight Size Class 3 (g) Weight Size Class 4 (g) Weight Frequency Total (g) Weight 1 210 112.4 50 114.6 2 23.2 0 0 262 250.2 2 187 111.5 98 256.8 7 70.3 0 0 292 438.6 3 150 85.4 53 99.5 4 57.9 0 0 207 242.8 4 201 114.8 58 164.1 8 103.2 0 0 267 382.1 5 73 49.4 42 86.5 1 19.1 1 21.1 117 176.1 6 108 60.7 66 176.2 8 73 0 0 182 309.9 7 9 5.7 3 3.5 1 7.1 0 0 13 16.3 8 12 4.3 4 7.6 0 0 0 0 16 11.9 9 271 158.5 115 262.1 12 133.9 1 37.8 399 592.3 10 1 0.6 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0.6 11 18 9.3 29 23 1 8.3 0 0 48 40.6 12 152 87.2 47 116.2 5 47.8 0 0 204 251.2 13 511 292.2 204 513.7 14 184.5 1 6.2 730 996.6 14 11 7.3 13 27.3 2 23.8 0 0 26 58.4 15 254 131.4 86 252.4 8 105.9 0 0 348 489.7 16 72 33.5 17 30.1 0 0 0 0 89 63.6 17 182 80.1 37 78.6 0 0 0 0 219 158.7 18 49 21.8 6 9.9 0 0 0 0 55 31.7 19 142 73.5 36 99.6 1 13.8 0 0 179 186.9 20 6 2.8 2 4.3 0 0 0 0 8 7.1 21 64 34.1 20 40.3 1 9.2 0 0 85 83.6 Total 2683 1476.5 986 2366.3 75 881 3 65.1 3747 4788.9

Table A.2: Pottery raw frequency by size class per shovel test block.

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Sample Block Size Class 1 (g) Weight Size Class 2 (g) Weight Size Class 3 (g) Weight Size Class 4 (g) Weight Frequency Total (g) Weight 1 447 136.8 106 196.1 3 123.6 0 0 556 456.5 2 375 122.2 83 155.4 5 64.8 0 0 463 342.4 3 252 87 87 163.4 4 49.9 0 0 343 300.3 4 388 107.5 98 183 2 26.7 0 0 488 317.2 5 504 161.3 87 175.8 3 27.1 0 0 594 364.2 6 363 118.9 64 105.7 5 38.9 0 0 432 263.5 7 107 36.9 17 33.9 1 27.4 0 0 125 98.2 8 140 43.5 34 54.4 5 102.4 0 0 179 200.3 9 681 216.7 170 319.1 7 73 0 0 858 608.8 10 29 7.4 14 18.6 0 0 0 0 43 26 11 64 22.7 8 13.8 1 3.7 0 0 73 40.2 12 527 176.8 117 233.5 3 54.4 0 0 647 464.7 13 902 290.5 252 496.3 8 67.7 2 440.1 1164 1294.6 14 170 49.3 24 48.3 2 25.2 0 0 196 122.8 15 239 78 74 202.3 6 99.3 0 0 319 379.6 16 68 27.4 21 36.3 2 18.6 0 0 91 82.3 17 273 87.3 65 146.6 3 26.2 0 0 341 260.1 18 76 28.4 24 64.3 5 89.8 0 0 105 182.5 19 167 55.7 44 96 2 67 1 163.5 214 382.2 20 69 32.2 13 26.3 0 0 0 0 82 58.5 21 178 58.4 36 91.2 1 6.1 0 0 215 155.7 Total 6019 1944.9 1438 2860.3 68 991.8 3 603.6 7528 6400.6

Table A.3: Raw counts of lithic debitage by size class per shovel test block.

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Sample Block Complete Flakes Flake Fragments Shatter Cores Objects with Cortex (g) Weight Objects w/out Cortex (g) Weight 1 129 360 65 0 60 162 492 290 2 108 305 45 0 45 113.6 414 218.3 3 79 223 42 0 35 50.1 310 252.1 4 100 317 71 0 38 70.2 450 248.1 5 128 383 79 2 42 94.3 545 275.8 6 86 303 44 1 34 38.7 397 226.2 7 14 90 21 0 12 40.1 112 58.8 8 49 110 18 0 22 107.3 163 95 9 188 596 78 0 76 187.1 782 423.7 10 7 33 3 0 3 2.1 40 23.8 11 10 54 10 0 7 9.4 67 30.5 12 112 471 62 1 33 57.3 612 407.7 13 227 826 109 1 77 560.4 1088 733.2 14 42 136 18 0 19 22.6 177 100.3 15 61 223 34 1 16 61.2 300 319.5 16 15 63 13 0 6 10.3 85 72.1 17 75 199 64 0 22 41.5 315 219.2 18 18 64 22 0 14 77.9 88 106.2 19 38 139 33 2 36 293.5 176 89.1 20 18 48 13 1 5 5 76 53.9 21 38 146 31 0 16 31.1 198 124.8 Total 1542 5089 875 9 618 2035.7 6887 4368.3

Table A.4: Debitage class frequencies.

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c

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a

Sample Block Biface Fragments Biface Fragments Scrapers Drills Fragments Axe Pitted Stones Gorgets Total Lithic Tools PMW Projectiles Retouched Flakes Flakes Retouched Bladelets MW Projectiles 1 6 15 1 4 3 0 0 0 1 0 26 2 2 8 3 0 2 1 0 0 0 0 14 3 6 5 1 0 2 0 0 0 0 0 12 4 3 16 4 1 1 0 0 0 0 0 24 5 3 4 2 0 2 0 0 0 1 1 9 6 3 7 1 0 3 0 0 0 0 0 11 7 1 1 0 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 4 8 1 4 1 0 2 0 0 0 0 0 6 9 4 8 4 4 3 0 0 0 0 0 20 10 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 11 0 2 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 2 12 7 6 3 2 3 0 0 0 0 0 18 13 12 36 5 3 7 1 0 0 1 0 57 14 1 2 0 1 3 0 0 0 0 1 4 15 3 7 3 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 14 16 5 6 0 1 2 0 0 1 0 0 12 17 2 9 2 2 2 0 0 0 1 0 15 18 1 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 0 3 19 3 3 1 1 1 0 0 0 1 0 8 20 1 1 1 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 3 21 4 6 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 11 Total 68 146 33 23 38 2 1 1 5 2 273

Table A.5: Stone tool frequencies per block.

236

Sample Block Burned Bone (g) Weight Unburned Bone Weight Total Bone (g) Weight 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 1 0.4 0 0 1 0.4 3 3 0.3 0 0 3 0.3 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 6 1 0.2 0 0 1 0.2 7 0 0 0 0 0 0 8 0 0 0 0 0 0 9 0 0 0 0 0 0 10 0 0 0 0 0 0 11 1 0.3 0 0 1 1.3 12 50 14.7 7 5.4 57 20.1 13 135 40.9 12 5.9 147 46.8 14 0 0 0 0 0 0 15 0 0 0 0 0 0 16 0 0 0 0 0 0 17 0 0 0 0 0 0 18 0 0 0 0 0 0 19 0 0 0 0 0 0 20 0 0 0 0 0 0 21 0 0 0 0 0 0 Total 191 56.8 19 11.3 210 69.1

Table A.6: Burned and unburned bone frequency raw frequency per shovel test block.

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Excava. Block Debitage Debitage Weight (g) Bladelets Flake Tools Projectile Point Frags Ceramic Sherds Ceramic Weight (g) Bone Weight(g) Bone Rock Fire-cracked (g) FCR Weight Groundstone # Cluster Volume Excavated(L)* Standardizing Multiplier for 1x1 1 2336 1218.2 14 3 24 1160 1461 3 0.6 786 21828.7 0 - 2510 0.11 2 5281 4074.9 125 26 61 3133 3949.6 13 3.8 7985 234522.1 3 - 6137 0.049 A 632 673.2 15 0 3 639 783.6 19 5.5 1989 58626.8 2 6 456 1.096 B 696 633.4 18 5 6 698 821.7 11 2.7 1790 37374.8 0 6 456 1.096 C 144 145.9 3 2 0 80 62 0 0 305 6593.9 0 - 278 1.079 D 408 459.8 11 10 3 527 468.8 3 0.6 1222 28937.1 0 - 645 0.54 E 2314 1889 98 12 23 3811 5743.4 1206 591.6 6176 123323.5 1 11 1512 0.265

238 F-K 99 94.4 5 0 3 23 14.8 0 0 455 7677.1 1 - 1005 0.22 Total 11910 9188.8 289 58 123 10071 13304.9 1255 604.8 20708 518884 7 12999 *volume not including unprocessed flotation samples

Table A.7: Raw frequency of select artifact classes recovered during block and unit excavation.

APPENDIX B

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