THE HISTORICAL ARCHAEOLOGY of NATIVE AMERICANS Patricia E

P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

THE HISTORICAL ARCHAEOLOGY OF NATIVE AMERICANS

Patricia E. Rubertone Department of Anthropology, Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island 02912; e-mail: Patricia [email protected]

Key Words acculturation, direct-historical approaches, landscapes, multicultural communities, colonialism ■ Abstract Historical archaeologists have given relatively scant attention to the study of Native Americans. Despite the potential to contribute to new understandings about Native peoples during and after European contact, the research commitment has been ambivalent at best. In this review, I ground this relationship in early debates about the ﬁeld’s subject matter and concurrent discussions in anthropology about direct- historical and acculturation models. In addition, I highlight currents in research that have reﬁned these approaches as well as those that have charted new directions. The latter are notable for helping comprehend the role of place and tradition in Native peoples’ lives, but also for reminding us of the complexities of identity construction in America after European contact. I reason that historical archaeology’s use of multiple sources, if linked creatively, can be crucial in producing knowledge about the past that illuminates the rich diversity of experiences among Native Americans. “Did these occurrences have a paradigm ... that went back in time? Or are we working out the minor details of a strictly random pattern?” Erdrich (1998:240) “...all of us remembering what we have heard together—that creates the whole story the long story of the people.” Silko (1981:7)

INTRODUCTION

Today, definitions of what constitutes historical archaeology are more broadly conceived than ever before. Disciplinary boundaries are being crossed, geographical specialties absorbed, and temporal divides dismantled at an exhilarating pace. In the wake of these intellectual encounters, perceptions of the field’s parochial- ism have eroded. American historical archaeology’s emphasis on the colonial and immigrant experience has been “ethnified.” Within this framework of greater in- clusivity, however, historical archaeology’s commitment to research on Native

0084-6570/00/1015-0425$14.00 425 P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

426 RUBERTONE

Americans has remained tentative (Rubertone 1996). Although not entirely mute, historical archaeological research has not played a major role in contributing to the process of remembering and thus, in helping to open new understandings of Native Americans during and after European contact. In part, historical archaeology’s ability to study postcontact Native Americans in a concerted way has been hampered by the undefined role of archaeological findings in what has traditionally been the domain of the ethnohistorian (Trigger 1980, 1986). Equally, if not more, detrimental has been an unwillingness to break free of conceptual models that have marginalized Native peoples and have tethered them to written sources (and the histories informed by them). In this review, I reason that historical archaeology’s ability to produce more inclusive understandings of America’s past—rather than just a series of separate ones—rests on its access to multiple sources of evidence and the vision to use these more critically, more rigorously, and more imaginatively. I begin by situating historical archaeology’s ambivalence toward Native Americans within developments in the larger discipline of anthropology, which defined how historic-period Native peoples should be studied and, thus, influenced the field as it emerged as an arena of scholarly discourse. I then review a selection of historical archaeological studies that build on traditional approaches to research on postcontact Native Americans by infusing them with theoretical insights from recent work in symbolism, materiality, and textual criticism. In the final sections, I examine current directions that are notable for radically revising historical archaeology’s engagement with Native Americans by opting for longitudinal, place-centered, and multicultural perspectives. Despite the enormous promise of these recent studies, they raise complex issues that pose hard challenges to historical archaeology as usual. By asking us to see the “invisible,” they encourage us to revisit bodies of evidence and categorical choices that have underwritten the marginalization of Native peoples in colonial North America. Moreover, they force us to reflect on the extent to which this research matters to contemporary Native Americans and encompasses concerns they may have about how their histories have been represented.

HISTORICAL ARCHAEOLOGY AND NATIVE AMERICANS: Questions of Definition, Matters of Inclusion

Postcontact Native Americans have been a subject of inquiry in historical archaeology since the 1930s, when ﬁeldwork opportunities lured archaeologists with training and experience in North American prehistory to sites ranging from Spanish missions to Plains Indian villages (for a review of historical archaeology from the 1930s to 1950s, see South 1994). For many who engaged in this research, “archaeology was archaeology and, with few exceptions, historical archaeology was the archaeology of post-contact Indian sites or sites of frontier forts and P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 427

trading posts frequented by post-contact groups of Indians” (Quimby 1994: 117–18). These sites and the questions they posed appealed to researchers intrigued by discussions taking place within anthropology about the study of culture change, including the use of direct-historical and acculturation approaches (e.g. Boyd et al 1951, Montgomery et al 1949). In this section, I reason that an interest in these theoretical approaches created a nurturing environment for historical archaeology, but one that was not entirely unproblematic in defining its relationship to the study of Native Americans. The direct-historical approach, which assumed cultural continuity from the documented ethnographic (or historical) present to prehistoric times for Native American groups living in certain regions of continental North America (e.g. the Puebloan Southwest, the Great Plains), influenced the development of historical archaeology by focusing attention on historically known sites. Cyrus Thomas (1898), who headed the Bureau of Ethnology’s mound surveys, first proposed the idea of cultural continuity as the basis for refuting “the Moundbuilder myth” by reasoning that the archaeological record had been mostly produced by native peoples who had lived in the same locations into the historical period (Trigger 1989; but see also Meltzer 1983, Ramenofsky 1990). By stressing cultural stasis, Thomas and other anthropologists working for the Bureau (subsequently renamed the Bureau of American Ethnology) encouraged the subordination of archaeological to ethnological research by giving primacy to what could be learned about Native Americans from ethnohistorical and ethnographic accounts rather than archaeological remains (Trigger 1989:125). According to this reasoning, which was later embraced by Boasian anthropologists, archaeology was relegated to a minor role in the study of Native American lives in historic periods. Archaeologists who later adopted the direct-historical approach (e.g. Steward 1942; Strong 1935, 1940; Wedel 1938) employed a documented Native American site (or one containing artifacts that suggested contact with Europeans) to establish a known baseline for tracing cultural sequences into the unknown prehistoric. Rather than assuming a kind of extreme cultural conservatism in which ethnographic data could be projected directly onto the past, they recognized that there were differences between the historically known present and the unknown past. Postcontact sites represented simpler, more decadent manifestations of Native American cultures (Strong 1935, Wedel 1938). Thus, the starting point in research informed by the direct-historical approach coincided with what was considered to be a terminal period in the culture history of the Native American groups being studied (Ramenofsky 1990:444). Consequently, archaeological research on historic period sites served more as a means of gaining a backward glance at earlier cultural periods and less as a critical source of evidence for illuminating the realities of Native peoples’ lives and struggles in colonial America. By diminishing archaeology’s relevance to contributing information that might lead to alternative understandings of Native Americans in the postcontact period, the direct-historical approach underscored the widely accepted opinion that European contact signaled the inevitable demise and eventual disappearance of native cultures. P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

428 RUBERTONE

As a conceptual framework for the study of historic America, acculturation reit- erated ideas about the loss of traditional lifeways following contact with Europeans. The term’s origins can be traced to nineteenth-century debates about the place of “first Americans” and “Un-Americans” in US democracy in which it was argued that the extension of constitutional rights and citizenship to Native Americans (but also African Americans and immigrants), and their full integration into national life depended on the erasure of their distinctive cultures. Between the 1930s and 1950s, anthropologists interested in modernization and postcolo- nialism and, more specifically, in applying their research to the formation of ad- ministrative policies adopted the concept (Beals 1953, Herskovits 1938). Their interest in acculturation was partially a response to the awareness that many Native American groups had not disappeared, as had been predicted, but were experienc- ing a cultural and demographic resurgence. Although it was acknowledged that changes in Native peoples’ lives in the postcontact period might indeed warrant systematic study, acculturation came to imply the loss of traditional cultures and the adoption of Western lifeways and values. Despite attempts to encourage more neu- tral understandings in which acculturation pertained to “those phenomena which result when groups of individuals having different cultures come into continuous first-hand contact, with subsequent changes in the original cultural patterns of either or both groups” (Redfield et al 1936:149), anthropological practice in North America (and elsewhere) indicates that acculturation studies continued to be con- cerned with the impact of European cultures on native ones (for a historiography of the term and its application in archaeology, see Cusick 1998). The implications of acculturation for the nascent field of historical archaeology were profound. Features of acculturation studies, particularly the emphasis on trait lists and cultures as entities, appealed to archaeologists whose own approaches to the study of culture history were rooted in the perception that cultures were units defined by collections of traits and that change was the consequence of historical accidents resulting from diffusion or migration. Therefore, the concept of acculturation could be easily adapted to studies of artifacts and assemblages collected from excavations of post-contact Indian sites and European frontier outposts closely articulated with Native Americans that were the focus of much early research in historical archaeology. Studies of artifacts became the means to study the acculturative process by providing a way to gauge the extent to which Native American cultures had changed as a result of contact with Europeans. Even when it was acknowledged that the acculturative process was complicated, multi- faceted, and often contested by Native Americans, changes in individual artifacts and the composition of assemblages became the yardstick by which to measure their assimilation into European-American culture. It was this logic that informed the research by Quimby & Spoehr (1951) on “acculturated” objects in the collections of the Chicago Natural History Museum that resulted in a classification system for describing changes in indigenous assemblages resulting from contact with the West. Although their intention was not to draw specific inferences about the nature of the acculturative process on the basis P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 429

of particular changes in artifact form, material, use, and technology, Quimby & Spoehr laid the groundwork for how later generations of scholars would use studies of artifacts to illustrate Native Americans’ acceptance of new and often alien things, and to bolster ideas about emerging “Europeanization” and disappearing “Indianness.” By revitalizing historical approaches in anthropology, direct-historical and acculturation models focused attention on the alterations to Native American cultures resulting from European contact and made them well-studied archaeological subjects. Although it was recognized that “the proper concept of American history would not exclude the aborigine” (Harrington 1978:3), the inclusion of Native American sites was at the core of debates about subject matter as historical archaeology emerged as a formal subdiscipline in the 1960s. Some preferred to identify the field “with the history of white men in North America” (Harrington 1978:3); others, especially those whose experience in historical archaeology was on Native American sites, advocated a more inclusive definition that was conditional on exposing and documenting the extinguishing of distinctive indigenous cultural patterns. For example, Fontana (1978) addressed the place of Native American sites by defining historical archaeology (or “historic sites archaeology”) as “archaeology carried out in sites which contain material evidence of non-Indian culture or concerning which there is contemporary non-Indian documentary record” (Fontana 1978:23). Using the presence of non-Indian artifacts (or written evidence) as a criterion, he classified historic sites into five major types—protohistoric, contact, postcontact, frontier, and nonaboriginal—based on the degree to which a site was “Indian” or not (Fontana 1978:23). The succession of site types “paralleled a trajectory of New World historical development from Indian to non-Indian” (Fontana 1978:23). Although the proposal endorsed the study of Native American sites by historical archaeologists, site types were conceptualized and structured on assumptions about the assimilation and extinction of native cultures, and about the relations of power and dominance these imply in colonial contexts. The categories segmented the history of Native Americans after 1492 in ways that applied only tenuously to the complex realities of their lives and experiences. Situations that did not readily fit the historic-site types identified in the classification system became liminal phenomena not warranting serious study (Larabee 1969, Schuyler 1978b). Thus, despite efforts to make historical archaeology more inclusive, Native American sites were relegated to a circumscribed position in which they became appropriate subjects of inquiry “only when their basic cultural and ecological patterns were altered by contact and when this was displayed in archaeological data” (Schuyler 1978b:28). Using this register of significance, the more recent episodes of Native American history were reduced to the final stages of a tragic drama in which historical archaeological research became an exercise in documenting the dissolution of native cultures by calculating proportions of imported, hybrid, and traditional objects in artifact assemblages and identifying the locations of sites of colonial encounters mentioned in written texts. In the following sections, I review P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

430 RUBERTONE

a selection of historical archaeological studies that illustrate these major trends, including those that are notable for opening up new directions in research on contact and postcontact Native Americans.

COUNTERING ACCULTURATION: Consumer Agency, Material Symbolism, and the Recovery of Meaning in Native Artifact Assemblages

Acculturation has been a major theme in studies that have relied on artifacts to monitor the gradual process by which Native Americans adapted to Europeans and became like them. Inspired by the foundational research of Quimby & Spoehr (1951), much recent scholarship has introduced various modifications to their original study. Revisions have included attempts to draw explicit inferences about the acculturative process on the basis of particular categories of artifacts (White 1974) and their frequencies (Cheek 1974). These studies have assumed that the propor- tion of European items (or ones incorporating some European-derived element) relative to “traditional” ones serves as a numerical index of the acculturative change that occurred in native societies as a result of contact with Europeans. Building on this principle, Fitting (1976) and now Ramenofsky (1998) have considered the process of functional (and raw material) replacement in historic-period Native American artifacts and its implications for studying technological and evolutionary change. Other refinements to the Quimby-Spoehr classification system have involved adding to the number of descriptive artifact categories to better reflect the spectrum of variability in native assemblages in culture contact settings and combining them to develop more sensitive indices for measuring acculturation profiles (Farnsworth 1992; Hoover 1989, 1992; Hoover & Costello 1985). Although these refinements have attempted to improve the Quimby-Spoehr model, there are numerous problems with its conceptual premises and methodological applications (Brown 1979a; Cusick 1998b; Fitzhugh 1985; Rubertone 1989). As with all acculturation models, Quimby-Spoehr—even its subsequent reinventions—implies an overly linear trajectory of cultural change in which the assumed direction of the transformation is from Native American to European. In the process, Native Americans are depicted as passive, and this “passivity” used to suggest a lack of resourcefulness, creativity, and choices (Fowler 1987; but for a discussion of acculturation in regard to African Americans, see Howson 1990). Consequently, Native peoples have been stereotyped as indiscriminate (if not unsatiable) consumers of European goods, but also of the culture thought to be embedded in them. Simply stated, the acculturation model asserts that “to accept one is to accept the other” (Upton 1996:1). Some researchers have vigorously challenged assumptions about Na- tive Americans as naive consumers of commoditized European culture. Rather than conflating European (and hybrid) artifacts with acculturation, their work P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 431

emphasizes the importance of native cultural, historical, and material contexts in interpreting changes in material assemblages. For instance, Hamell (1983) (see also Hamell 1987, Miller & Hamell 1986) has presented compelling evidence that suggests Siouan, Algonquian, and Iroquoian peoples of the Woodland Northeast were selective consumers of European trade goods whose choices were guided by their own cultural logic. Finding European objects, particularly glass beads and trade copper/brass, juxtaposed with native items connoting life, wellness, mind, and knowledge (e.g. shell, crystal, and native copper) in protohistoric and early historic burials, he reasoned that Native peoples’ preferences for certain foreign trade goods, at least initially, represented an extension of relational metaphors between cosmological concepts and material culture. In a similar vein, Crosby (1988:185) maintains that the Native peoples of southern New England extended the concept of manit (the appreciation of spiritual power manifested in any form) to incorporate into their daily lives and sacred traditions a range of European things as diverse as iron hoes and bibles “not in the Western sense of change as progress, but in their own cultural terms as a means of acquiring spiritual power.” Although the concept of manit was a shared cultural value, she implies that, in practice, the acquisition of European items to gain spiritual power contributed to the increasing importance and autonomy of some individuals in seventeenth-century New England (see also Brenner 1988), and to reconfiguring native social and cultural landscapes. Instead of stressing the loss of indigenous culture resulting from the acquisition of European goods, both researchers suggest that cultural identity continued because of it. In attempting to approximate native meaning, symbolic approaches that emphasize the role of cosmological concepts in determining Native peoples’ choices neglect various other factors that might influence why they might accept or re- ject European goods. Rogers (1990) has made the case that Arikara trade with Europeans was shaped not only by their cultural values, but also by their perception of exchange as a social process (for other examples from Native North America, see also Rogers & Wilson 1993). The nature of these interactions, at least in part, influenced their acceptance or rejection of European trade goods. Rogers’ study, which is both diachronic and contextual, revealed that patterns of artifact change were not progressive or time-dependent, as might be inferred from an acculturation model (Quimby 1966, Orser & Owsley 1982; cf Orser 1984, Ray 1978, Smith 1963), but were much more complex. The findings have profound implications for understanding the postcontact history of the Arikara, but also other native groups, in that they highlight the need for considering multiple processes and contexts in studying the relationship between artifacts and change. Complementing the burgeoning anthropological and archaeological literature on material culture (e.g. Appadurai 1986, Strathern 1988, Thomas 1991, Turgeon 1997, Weiner 1989), these recent studies in the historical archaeology of Native Americans demonstrate that how people attach themselves to material things and commodify identities is incredibly more variable than has been supposed by acculturation models. Groups, but additionally individuals and even material objects P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

432 RUBERTONE

themselves, have histories that serve as sources of variability relevant to compre- hending change (or persistence) in artifact assemblages. The recognition of these histories makes salient that what is significant about the adoption of alien objects by Native Americans are the ways in which they are culturally redefined and put to use. By emphasizing transformative possibilities, these findings pose real challenges to research as usual on historic-period Native Americans. In this respect, Spector’s (1993) groundbreaking work is illuminating. Her study eschews archaeological systems of classification that emphasize European-derived elements and meanings in Native American artifact assemblages and, instead, ties objects to the experiences of the Eastern Dakota people who created and used them. For Spector, an iron-tipped, bone-handled awl is not simply a hydrid artifact associated with the historic fur trade, it is an object that was intimately entangled with a Wahpeton woman’s life history conducted within the context of enduring cultural traditions.

HISTORIC-SITE IDENTIFICATION, ROUTE STUDIES, AND COLONIAL ENCOUNTERS: Rethinking the Direct-Historical Method

The desire to identify the geographic location of historic sites mentioned in early written accounts has been a large part of the research undertaken by historical archaeologists. Although some see efforts to discover the locations of sites associated with past historical events as an intellectual legacy of Cyrus Thomas’s work (see Ramenofsky 1990), the earliest recorded example of this research in North America predates his resolution of the Mound Builder question by about a century. In 1796, Robert Pagan guided by Samuel de Champlain’s 1604 map helped settle a border dispute between the United States and Canada by using archaeology to determine which of several rivers emptying into Passamaquoddy Bay was the St. Croix, the international boundary set in the 1783 Treaty of Paris. Pagan’s discovery of the remains of the Champlain and Du Monts colony on Dochet Island in the river named the St. Croix eventually brought closure to the controversy (Ganong 1945), but it also contributed to an interest in identifying historic sites, including Native American settlements visited by explorers, traders, and others that were the settings for early colonial encounters and other important events in North American history (Trigger 1969:303; see also Kidd 1953, Pendergast & Trigger 1972). Notable among these Native American sites were those situated along the routes of sixteenth-century Spanish explorers whose expeditions crossed the ancestral homelands of the Native peoples of the southeastern United States. Tracing the routes of these explorers has long been a subject of intense public interest, antiquar- ian pursuits, and, more recently, an explosive number of historical anthropological and archaeological studies underwritten in part by various anniversary celebra- tions, including the 1992 Columbian quincentennial (for overviews, see Brain & Ewen 1993, Galloway 1997b, Hudson 1997, Milanich 1990). Archaeological P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 433

research on where explorers went and who they encountered along the way illustrates the increasing consideration given to the Native American context of European contact and colonialism. However, it also raises genuine concerns about the claims made about archaeological sites as places mentioned in written accounts and, also, about the nature of intercultural contacts and the native homelands in which they occurred. Of the Spanish expeditions to encounter the Native peoples in the Southeast, the one led by Hernando de Soto, who traveled through La Florida from 1539 to 1543, has received the most attention. Serious anthropological study began with Swanton (1939), who relied heavily on information contained in ethnohistorical accounts to guide his reconstruction of the route and native cultures. Like archaeologists who employed the direct-historical approach to establish regional chronologies, he assumed that the native social and cultural landscapes of de Soto’s entrada were representative of an earlier or prehistoric past. Believing that little, if anything, had changed, he culled diverse pieces of evidence from a myriad of historical and ethnographic sources separated by time and authorship to construct an interpretation of the Native American Southeast that would become foundational for subsequent anthropological and archaeological scholarship. Compared with Swanton, the newer generation of researchers engaged in route studies have made extensive use of archaeology to aid in their reconstructions (Hudson 1997, Hudson et al 1990, Milanich & Hudson 1993). Drawing on regional surveys (Brain et al 1974, De Pratter 1983, Dye & Cox 1990, Morse & Morse 1983, Phillips et al 1951, Smith 1986, Walthall 1980), site-specific data (Boyd & Schroedl 1987; De Pratter et al 1985; Ewen 1989, 1990; Hally et al 1990; Hudson et al 1985), and artifact studies (Brain 1975; Smith 1975, 1982), their findings have corrected some of the errors of Swanton’s reconstruction by producing what are considered to be more accurate, but not entirely uncontroversial, render- ings of the de Soto entrada. Archaeology’s expanded role in route studies has also contributed to a better understanding of the Native American groups encountered by the Spanish and, especially, to evaluating the information contained in the chronicles concerning native social and political organization (Hally 1988; De Pratter 1983; Knight 1990; Scarry 1992). The role of archaeology in de Soto route studies, as in other historical reconstructions, is not unproblematic. Although the role of archaeology in identifying specific places mentioned in written records should be a straightforward exercise involving the examination of dimensions of time, space, and form used in all archaeological inquiries (Trigger 1969, 1972), archaeological evidence may not always provide the precision needed to answer such questions unambiguously. For instance, material remains used in dating an occupation may not provide the resolution needed to pinpoint a site to a particular decade or even century. Improved familiarity with historic-period European artifacts has greatly refined estimates of chronology and, thus, has remedied some of the problems in determining temporal associations in the sixteenth-century Southeast (Brain 1975; Brown 1975, 1979b; Deagan 1987; Goggin 1968; Smith 1975). However, questions about the nature P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

434 RUBERTONE

and formation of archaeological deposits continue to cast a specter of doubt on specific site identifications and reconstructions (Boyd & Schroedl 1987, Brain 1985, Hudson et al 1987). Aside from these limitations, the more profound methodological problem raised by historic-site identification and route studies for historical archaeological inquiries of Native Americans concerns the relationship between written accounts and the archaeological record. Although archaeology’s expanding role has contributed to better reconstructions of de Soto’s route through native homelands, questions can be raised about the extent to which it has underwritten existing understandings of colonial encounters rather than enabling scholars to write alternative histories of contact in the Southeast. Galloway (1997d) has noted that “there has been a naive tendency to accept written accounts of de Soto’s expedition at face value...” (1997d:xiii). She indicates that historical criticism has been limited and, at best, has involved collating different narratives rather than engaging in detailed textual analysis. The uncritical acceptance of written sources belies a privileging of this record over archaeological evidence even when the opposite is espoused. Although historical archaeologists have envisioned different ways in which textual and archaeological sources might be used (Deagan 1988, Deetz 1988, Leone & Potter 1988b, Little 1992, Stahl 1993), a dialectical approach (also referred to as “critical” and “middle range”) acknowledging the independence of different strands of evidence and incorporating textual criticism is more appropriate in situations where the subject of study and author of the text are not part of the same cultural system, class, gender, or ethnic group. Thus, privileging written sources over archaeology in constructing histories of Native Americans in culture contact situations is a highly problematic endeavor that binds Native peoples to someone else’s history. Galloway (1997c) has offered a possible solution for how accounts of first encounters might be more effectively integrated with archaeology to write native- centered histories. Her proposal for reconciling the events of contact found in narratives like the de Soto chronicles with anthropological questions about “the way things were” involves using recorded incidents “as explanations for the origins of changes following contact, but not as a gloss of what went before” (Galloway 1997c:292). Unlike the direct-historical approach in which the historically known case provides a model for the past and a source of information considered unattain- able from archaeology, the new paradigm employs the moment of discontinuity (i.e. the event of contact) to explain later developments (but see also Sahlins 1981). Galloway suggests that this kind of approach could be used to seek an explanation for the transition Native peoples in the Southeast made from the highly organized chiefdoms of late prehistory to the autonomous villages of the historic period (1997c:292). The “new paradigm” is appealing because it embraces the long-term, is forward- looking and, thus, makes the possibility of investigating the postcontact histories of Native peoples using archaeology a credible exercise. However, it poses the risk of encouraging explanations that emphasize colonial encounters as the single P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 435

transforming, if not traumatic, event in Native peoples’ lives, rather than acknowledging their ability to withstand and sometimes resist these invasions and the incursions that followed. The “historic” tribes of the Southeast are not merely postcontact phenomena whose very existence was the legacy of Spanish contact. Rather than viewing these “tribal” groups as remnants of population decline, social turmoil, and economic disruptions—which many indeed experienced to vary- ing degrees—it might be more useful to consider their emergence as evidence of survival skills that were part of long-standing repertoires of experiences (e.g. De Pratter 1983, Smith 1987). To explore this accumulated knowledge requires that we go beyond reconstructing places of ﬁrst encounters and, instead, focus on using historical archaeology to examine the landscapes of tradition known to Native peoples.

INVESTIGATING NATIVE LANDSCAPES: Ancestral Homelands, Cultural Survival, and Resistance

It should be clear by now that postcontact histories of Native Americans call for revisions to archaeological approaches that have neglected to interrogate existing understandings of the many Native Americans who survived initial contact with Europeans and underestimated their resilience in dealing with a host of subsequent colonial experiences. Rather than insisting that many Native American groups of the postcontact period are historically emergent phenomena whose cultural authenticity is questionable and whose local circumstances are the consequence of European contact and colonialism instead of deep historical roots (e.g. Biolsi & Zimmerman 1997), they might be more accurately described as peoples with re- markably complex histories of survival and enduring attachments to community and place. Because assumptions of cultural continuity typically have applied to Native Americans before rather than after European encounters, historical archaeologists interested in exploring the persistence of native groups in the decades and centuries following initial contact must reevaluate methodologies for establishing native presence. Rather than relying on the identiﬁcation of ethnic or “tribal” markers, which might be highly problematic in material assemblages from colonial North America, they need to take on the daunting challenge posed by acknowledging that persistence sometimes (and perhaps more often) means change (rather than a holding onto). Consequently, any serious attempt by historical archaeologists to investigate how different groups of Native Americans maintained their “roads of life” (Kehoe 1994:204; see also Clifford 1988) must recognize that locating community means looking beyond artifacts and sites to the places and, thus, the landscapes that sustained it. To date, most historical archaeological investigations of postcontact Native Americans have focused on examining the ancestries of “tribal” groups by using settlement and stylistic evidence to trace geographical movements and historical continuities (or discontinuities) through time. For example, Brain (1988) tracks P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

436 RUBERTONE

the Tunica, one of the refugee groups that survived the sixteenth-century entradas, from northern Mississippi to central Louisiana over a 400-year period. In each new place where the Tunica lived among and intermarried with other peoples, Brain detected evidence of their ethnic distinctiveness in ceramic traditions and mortuary practices. Similarly, Perttula (1994) found support for historical persistence among Koasati Indians, members of the Creek confederacy who had resettled in Texas (ca 1800), in the continuing importance of domestic ceramic production (cf Dickens 1976, Keel 1976, Galloway 1995). In contrast, studies on the Arkansas Cherokee (Davis 1987) and Mashantucket Pequot reservations (McBride 1990, 1993) suggest that settlement and land use patterns associated with organization of domestic activities and communal life persisted long after relocation from for- mer homelands and therefore, provide more persuasive archaeological evidence for historic continuity than artifacts and, in some instances, architecture. Building on recent theorizing about place (Bender 1993, Carmichael et al 1994, Feld & Basso 1996, Jackson 1994, Lowenthal 1985, Tilley 1994), some historical archaeologists studying Native Americans have ventured beyond a settlement approach. Instead, they have used sites and surrounding areas to reveal Native peoples’ constructions of particular localities from perception and experiences. This research on landscape has illustrated cultural differences in concepts of space, but it has also led to profoundly richer and more nuanced understandings of the role of place in Native peoples’ lives. The insights gained about native landscapes as active and animated places steeped in names, memories, and routines have shed considerable light on why relationships to ancestral homelands have remained important despite incursions by non-Indians, dispossession, diasporas, and forced removals. The value of a landscape approach is demonstrated by Handsman & Lamb Richmond (1996), who use a homelands model to inform their reading of archaeological and archival evidence about the Mahican and Schaghticoke. Regardless of whether these Native people stayed in their homelands inconspicuously or moved away after colonialist appropriation in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, they sustained connections to their home places just as they had for several thou- sand years before European contact. They traveled well-worn paths; sought access to fishing sites, planting fields, and hunting grounds; and, most important, visited the graves of ancestors. Accompanied by simple acts of commemoration, often detectable in the archaeological record, visitation provides an effective challenge to myths of abandonment and cultural extinction in early New England, but also to indictments that Native Americans’ interest in sacred sites is a recent pheno- menon. Like Handsman & Lamb Richmond, other researchers have reached similar conclusions about the continuing historical and ideological significance of ancestral homelands and the role that burial places play in maintaining and nurturing Native peoples’ senses of place and communal identity (e.g. Hantman 1990, Rubertone 1994). The idea of landscapes as stable and permanent localities of persistent places that serve as reservoirs of accumulated and ongoing history is also illustrated by P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 437

recent historical archaeological research in the Puebloan Southwest. Dublin (1999), for example, has fused concepts of landscape, history, and identity to create a more dynamic understanding of place than the ones that envision the landscapes of pueblo-dwelling groups simply as a reﬂection of worldview. Her research (but see also Ferguson 1996, Rothschild et al 1993) shows how historic-period Zuni constructed farming villages on the ruins of fourteenth-century pueblos to reinforce their claims to ancestral lands in an expanding (and increasingly multicultural) colonial frontier setting. Situated at outlying locations, the Zuni retained the footprint of ancestral pueblos for their nineteenth-century farming villages but recast interior space to suit activities that had become part of their resistant accommodation (e.g. livestock raising, baking wheat-bread). These theoretically anchored observations about space involving the reuse of ancestral sites and the reoccupation of places appropriated for European colonial settlement (for a case from Australia’s Tasmanian frontier, Murray 1993) provide concrete archaeological testimony for dispelling assumptions of absence, but also for revealing senses of place among Native Americans that are enduring, unfolding, and, thus, stoutly resistant. In sum, this appreciation of the prominent and active role of landscape in sustaining community may offer the most persuasive argument against various forms of categorical thinking that have obscured the richness and complexities of Native Americans’ lives in colonial America.

REPRESENTING DIVERSITY: Creolization, Multiculturalism, and Complexity

Lightfoot (1995) has noted that the social context of culture contact in North America cannot be reduced to encounters between monolithic “European” and “Indian” cultural entities. The on-the-ground social reality was “considerably more complex, involving one or more local native populations, European peoples of varied nationalities and backgrounds, and many ‘other’ peoples of color.” (Lightfoot 1995:200). This situation did not change after contact. If anything, Native American communities became more diverse in the postcontact and later colonial periods. In western North America, for example, the origins of the Metis, the progeny of marriages between European-Canadian traders and Native American women, who became numerically dominant and ethnically distinctive, were intricately tied to the fur trade. In the south (but also in parts of the north), plantation economies created contexts in which Native Americans interacted with African Americans and, at the same time, planted seeds for establishing renegade (also maroon) multiracial communities. In New England, some “remnants” of once populous Indian nations lived in small enclaves (or in cities) with clans people from other homelands and with non-Indians. Intermarriages with African and European Americans led to increasing racial complexity that may have fortiﬁed, rather than diminished, Native peoples’ ability to persist into (and after) the colonial period. P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

438 RUBERTONE

Although historical archaeology’s serious concerns about the need to consider pluralism in its research agenda are relatively recent, these issues first began to surface in the debates surrounding colonoware. Described as sharing similarities with prehistoric and historic-period Native American ceramics, these low-fired earthenwares from colonial-period sites in eastern North America were originally described as native-made, but were possibly used by African Americans (Noel Hume 1962). Although it was later concluded that colonoware was made and used by African American slaves (South 1974), some historical archaeologists now suspect that both Native and African Americans may have crafted these pots (e.g. Ferguson 1992, Mouer et al 1999). Unlike previous attributions that portray “a strictly segregated colonial experience,” these newer understandings take into account the “more complex processes of colonial creolization” (Ferguson 1992:22) and acknowledge that Native Americans continued to exist, if not play significant roles, in postcontact America. This emphasis on the cultural syncretism that may emerge from a blending and sharing of technologies and artistic traditions in multiethnic colonial situations (see also Groover 1994, Vernon 1988) is countered by research findings that imply the maintenance of cultural differences. For instance, Deagan (1983, 1990) found that the ceramic traditions and “foodways” of several Southeastern native groups ex- hibited remarkable resiliency in multicultural Spanish St. Augustine. However, her more recent statements indicate greater attention to matters of exchange, bor- rowing, and invention among the people of diverse ethnic, cultural, and social affiliations who comprised the households of colonial Spanish America (Deagan 1998). In their examination of the spatial organization of daily practices from a multiscalar perspective, Lightfoot et al (1998) discovered little evidence for “creolization” in mixed-ethnic households of Alutiiq men and Kashaya (Pomo) women at Fort Ross, a Russian-American colonial outpost in northern California. The reproduction of social identities among these native women as detected in the archaeology of daily life suggested the maintenance of visible ties to family, friends, and kin living in the communities of nearby Kashaya homelands (Lightfoot et al 1998:218). Therefore, rather than creating new identities, and perhaps ones ex- pressing social aspirations in an emerging colonial society, some Kashaya women chose “Indianness.” Alternatively, Burley’s (1989) analysis of the Metis implies that the acquisition of English teawares and tea-drinking protocols was initially linked to women’s negotiation of status in fur-trade society and only later to broader ethnic-group integration resulting from their patterns of social interaction. The insight derived from these studies is that the construction of identity, even a creolized one, in pluralistic settings is not simply a response or reaction to colonialism, but a more complex and varied process. Native peoples’ experiences, including the full range of their social interactions (instead of just those with non-Indians), contributed to a kind of dynamism that involved defining themselves “with, over, and in spite of others” (Clifford 1988:289). For instance, class, whether appropriated from the colonial society or emerging internally from new social and economic conditions, sometimes mattered in defining social identity and P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 439

cultural difference within native groups (e.g. Burley 1989). More often, researchers have applied class as an analytical category in designating Native peoples’ relative position within the larger post-Columbian world. Crowell (1997), for example, situated hierarchically organized Alutiiq peoples, the principal suppliers of otter pelts and provisions at Three Saints Harbor, Alaska, in the lowest echelon of the highly stratified Russian fur-trade enterprise. Following Otto’s (1984) approach to the study of socioeconomic class structure in the context of plantation archaeology, Feder (1994) proposed that ceramics from the Lighthouse site, a multiracial settlement in Connecticut, could be interpreted as a signature of a “culture of poverty.” However, applying Miller’s (1980, 1991) ceramic-scaling index, an analytical tool for estimating the costs of English ceramics, he detected differences among the community’s households. Although multiple factors and levels of analysis com- plicate, and even confuse, historical archaeological research on class, these studies provide potent reminders that Native Americans were neither isolated nor immune from entanglements with the colonial society and the forces shaping it. Clearly, theirs was not simply a backward-looking sense of identity that entrapped them in a frozen and distant past. Instead, it was pliant enough to allow them to chart courses of survival toward a future. Representing the richness and diversity of Native American lives in postcontact North America necessitates a reappraisal of recent conceptual approaches that have informed historical archaeological research, especially those that seem doomed to repeat over-simplifications and reinforce dichotomous thinking about “mixed bloods” versus “pure Indians,” converted (or “praying Indians”) versus traditional ones, and native men versus women. Therefore, the challenge for historical archaeology is to understand the different experiences of those who survived not only European contact but also proclamations about acculturation, assimilation, hybridization, and resistance. With its access to multiple sources of evidence, historical archaeology presents the possibility of doing more than adding Indians to the plural mix of postcontact North America. Rather, it poses the opportunity to examine issues of interaction and identity in more detail. By comparing and con- trasting different strands of evidence in rigorous and imaginative ways, ambiguities may be revealed that more closely, if not more accurately, reflect the specific am- bivalences of native life. Thus, observations on material culture that might give the impression of assimilation or cultural syncretism could be reinterpreted in ways that capture a diversity of experiences and that challenge accounts in which the variations are finite and predictable.

CONCLUSIONS

The matter of including Native Americans in historical archaeology means more than adding yet another dimension of cultural difference. As important as this might be, it also makes historical archaeology take much more seriously its commitment to study colonialism. Understanding the “spread of European societies” since the P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

440 RUBERTONE

fifteenth century and “their subsequent development” (Deetz 1991:1) also means investigating processes of dispossession and those whose lives were affected by it. This is not another way of saying that global developments activated by European expansion subsumed, or even became, Native Americans’ postcontact history. Instead, it is an acknowledgement of the importance of diverse traditions and practices among America’s Native peoples and their role in configuring different futures within and against colonialism (Asad 1987). The methodological tools of historical archaeology make it possible to link strands of evidence in creative ways, and ulti- mately expose the silences and distortions that fill the pages of historical narratives about the colonial experience in North America (Rubertone 2001). To accomplish this, we need to continuously reevaluate what constitutes relevant data. Recent studies have begun to reveal a richer diversity of experiences among Native Americans following contact than those portrayed in categories such as “tribal remnants,” “acculturated Indians,” and “mixed bloods.” These stories represent serious and ongoing challenges to long-held convictions that temporally and spatially distance Native peoples. Telling of complicated social interactions, activism, persistence, tensions, and contradictions has made significant strides in demonstrating that historical archaeology indeed is a part of the many stories of Native peoples’ experiences. Thus, it has the potential to play a crucial role in the process of remembering and producing knowledge about the past that shows what was or almost was.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Elizabeth Brumﬁel offered initial encouragement for developing some seminal ideas presented in an earlier piece into this review. Leah Rosenmeier, Desiree Zymroz, and especially Russell Handsman provided friendship, editorial advice, and thoughtful challenges. I alone accept responsibility for the content and apologize for any omissions in the cited literature.

Visit the Annual Reviews home page at www.AnnualReviews.org

LITERATURE CITED Appadurai A, ed. 1986. The Social Life of and Anthropologists: Vine Deloria, Jr. and Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspec- the Critique of Anthropology. Tucson: Univ. tive. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Press Ariz. Press Asad T. 1987. Are there histories of peo- Blakely RL, ed. 1988. The King Site: Continu- ples without Europe? A review article. Soc. ity and contact in Sixteenth-Century Georgia. Comp. Stud. Soc. Hist. 29(3):594–607 Athens: Univ. Georgia Press Beals R. 1953. Acculturation. In Anthropology Boyd CC, Schroedl G. 1987. In search of Coosa. Today, ed. S Tax, pp. 375–95. Chicago: Univ. Am. Antiq. 52(4):840–44 Chicago Press Boyd MF, Smith HG, Grifﬁn JW. 1951. Here Bender B, ed. 1993. Landscape: Politics and They Once Stood: The Tragic End of the Perspectives. Oxford, UK: Berg Apalachee Missions. Gainesville: Univ. Fla. Biolsi T, Zimmerman LJ, eds. 1997. Indians Press P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 441

Brain JP. 1975. Artifacts of the Adelantado. and Art. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Univ. Conf. Hist. Site Archaeol. Pap. 8:129–38 Press Brain JP. 1985. Introduction: update of de Soto Crosby CA. 1988. From myth to history, or studies since the United States de Soto Ex- why King Philip’s ghost walks abroad. See pedition Commission report. See Swanton Leone & Potter 1988a, pp. 183–210 1939. Reprint. Washington, DC: Smithso- Crowell AL. 1997. Archaeology and the Cap- nian Inst. 1985 italist World System: A Study from Russian Brain JP. 1988. Pap. Peabody Mus. Am. Ar- America. New York: Plenum chaeol. Ethnol. Vol. 78. Tunica Archaeology. Cusick JG, ed. 1998a. Studies in Culture Con- Cambridge, MA: Peabody Mus. tact: Interaction, Culture Change, and Ar- Brain JP, Ewen CR. 1993. Introduction to bib- chaeology. Carbondale: South. Illinois Univ. liography of de Soto studies. In The de Soto Cent. Archaeol. Invest. Chronicles. The Expedition of Hernando de Cusick JG. 1998b. Historiography of accultur- Soto to North America in 1539–1543, ed. LA ation: an evaluation of concepts and their ap- Clayton, VJ Knight, EC Moore, pp. 507–14. plication in archaeology. See Cusick 1998a, Tuscaloosa: Univ. Alabama Press pp. 126–45 Brain JP, Toth A, Rodriguez-Buckingham A. Davis HA. 1987. The Cherokee in Arkansas: 1974. Ethnohistoric archaeology and the de an invisible archaeological resource. See Soto entrada into the Lower Mississippi Val- Sabo & Schneider 1987, pp. 48–58 ley. Conf. Hist. Sites Archaeol. Pap. 7:232–89 Deagan KA. 1983. Spanish St. Augustine: The Brenner EM. 1988. Sociopolitical implications Archaeology of a Colonial Creole Commu- of mortuary ritual remains in 17th-century nity. New York: Academic native southern New England. See Leone & Deagan KA. 1987. Artifacts of the Spanish Potter 1988a, pp. 147–81 Colonies of Florida and the Caribbean, Brown IW. 1975. Historic trade bells. Conf. 1500–1800. Vol. 1. Ceramics, Glassware, Hist. Site Archaeol. Pap. 10:69–82 and Beads. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Brown IW. 1979a. Historic artifacts and socio- Inst. cultural change: some warnings from the Deagan KA. 1988. Neither history, nor prehis- Lower Mississippi Valley. Conf. Hist. Site tory: the questions that count in historical Archaeol. Pap. 13:109–21 archaeology. Hist. Archaeol. 22(1):7–12 Brown IW. 1979b. Bells. In Pap. Peabody Deagan KA. 1990. Sixteenth-century Spanish- Mus. Am. Archaeol. Ethnol. Vol. 71. Tunica American colonization in the southeastern Treasure, ed. JP Brain, pp. 197–205. United States and the Caribbean. See Thomas Cambridge, MA: Peabody Mus. 1990, pp. 225–50 Burley DV. 1989. Function, meaning, and con- Deagan KA. 1998. Transculturation and text: ambiguities in ceramic use by the Hiver- Spanish American ethnogenesis: the archae- nant Metis of the northwestern plains. Hist. ological legacy of the quincentenary. See Archaeol. 23(1):97–106 Cusick 1998a, pp. 23–43 Carmichael D, Hubert J, Reeves B, Schanche Deetz J. 1988. American historical archaeol- A, eds. 1994. Sacred Sites, Sacred Places. ogy: methods and results. Science 239:362– London: Routledge 67 Cheek A. 1974. The evidence for acculturation Deetz J. 1991. Archaeological evidence of six- in artifacts: Indians and non-Indians at San teenth- and seventeenth-century encounters. Xavier del Bac, Arizona. PhD thesis. Univ. In Historical Archaeology in Global Per- Ariz., Tucson. 293 pp. spective, ed. L. Falk, pp. 1–10. Washington, Clifford J. 1988. The Predicament of Culture: DC: Smithsonian Inst. Twentieth-Century Ethnography, Literature, De Pratter CB. 1983. Late prehistoric and early P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

442 RUBERTONE

historic chiefdoms in the southeastern United in Contact: the Impact of European Contacts States. PhD thesis. Univ. Georgia, Athens. on Native American Cultural Institutions in 234 pp. Eastern North America, A.D. 1000–1800, ed. De Pratter CB, Hudson C, Smith MT. 1985. The WB Fitzhugh, pp. 1–15. Washington, DC: Hernando de Soto Expedition: from Chiaha Smithsonian Inst. to Mabila. In Alabama and the Borderlands: Fontana B. 1978. On the meaning of his- From Prehistory to Statehood, ed. R Badger, toric sites archaeology. See Schuyler 1978a, L Clayton, pp. 108–26. Tuscaloosa: Univ. pp. 23–26 Alabama Press Fowler L. 1987. Shared Symbols, Contested Dickens RS. 1976. Cherokee Prehistory: The Meanings: Gros Ventre Culture and History, Pisgah Phase in the Appalachian Summit Re- 1778–1984. Ithaca, NY: Cornell Univ. Press gion. Knoxville: Univ. Tenn. Press Galloway P. 1995. Choctaw Genesis, 1500– Dublin S. 1999. Changing places: a cultural 1700. Lincoln: Univ. Nebr. Press geography of nineteenth-century Zuni, NM. Galloway P, ed. 1997a. The Hernando de Presented at Annu. Meet. Soc. Hist. Arch., Soto Expedition: History, Historiography, 32nd, Salt Lake City and “Discovery” in the Southeast. Lincoln: Dye DH, Cox CA, eds. 1990. Towns and Tem- Univ. Nebr. Press ples along the Mississippi. Tuscaloosa: Univ. Galloway P. 1997b. Commemorative history Alabama Press and Hernando de Soto. See Galloway 1997a, Erdrich L. 1998. The Antelope Wife: A Novel. pp. 410–35 New York: Harper Flamingo Galloway P. 1997c. Conjuncture and longue Ewen CR. 1989. Anhaica: discovery of duree: history, anthropology, and the Her- Hernando de Soto’s 1539–1540 winter camp. nando de Soto expedition. See Galloway See Milanich & Milbrath 1989, pp. 110–18 1997a, pp. 283–94 Ewen CR. 1990. Soldier of fortune: Hernando Galloway P. 1997d. Introduction. See Galloway de Soto in the territory of the Apalachee, 1997a, pp. xiii–xvi 1539–1540. See Thomas 1990, pp. 83–92 Ganong SB, ed. 1945. Ste. Croix (Dochet) Is- Farnsworth P. 1992. Missions, Indians, and cul- land. Saint John, NB: New Brunswick Mus. tural continuity. Hist. Archaeol. 26(1):22–36 Goggin JM. 1968. Spanish Majolica in the New Feder KL. 1994. A Village of Outcasts: Histori- World. Yale Univ. Publ. Anthropol. 62. New cal Archaeology and Documentary Research Haven: Yale Univ. Press at the Lighthouse Site. London: Mayﬁeld Groover MD. 1994. Evidence for folkways and Feld S, Basso KH, eds. 1996. Senses of Place. cultural exchange in the eighteenth-century Santa Fe, NM: Sch. Am. Res. Press South Carolina backcountry. Hist. Archaeol. Ferguson L. 1992. Uncommon Ground: Archae- 28(1):41–64 ology and Early African America, 1650– Hally DJ. 1988. Archaeology and settlement 1800. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Inst. plan of the King site. See Blakely 1988, Ferguson TJ. 1996. Historic Zuni Architecture pp. 3–16 and Society: An Archaeological Application Hally DJ, Smith MT, Langford JB. 1990. The of Space Syntax. Anthropol. Pap. Univ. Ariz., archaeological reality of de Soto’s Coosa. No. 60. Tucson: Univ. Ariz. Press See Thomas 1990, pp. 121–38 Fitting J. 1976. Patterns of acculturation in Hamell GR. 1983. Trading in metaphors: the the Straits of Mackinaw. In Cultural Change magic of beads. In Proc. 1982 Glass Trade and Continuity: Essays in Honor of James Bead Conf., ed. CF Hayes III, pp. 5–28. Bennett Grifﬁn, ed. C Cleland, pp. 321–34. Rochester, NY: Rochester Mus. Sci. Cent. New York: Academic Hamell GR. 1987. Mythical realities and Fitzhugh WW. 1985. Introduction. In Cultures European contact in the Northeast during P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 443

the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Man Keel BC. 1976. Cherokee Archaeology: A Study Northeast 33:63–87 of the Appalachian Summit. Knoxville: Univ. Handsman RG, Lamb Richmond T. 1996. The Tenn. Press Mahican and Schaghticoke peoples and us. In Kehoe AB. 1994. Maintaining the road of life. Making Alternative Histories: The Practice In Violence, Resistance, and Survival in the of Archaeology and History, ed. PR Schmidt, Americas: Native Americans and the Legacy TC Patterson, pp. 87–117. Santa Fe, NM: of Conquest, ed. WB Taylor, GY Pease, Sch. Am. Res. Press pp. 193–207. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Hantman JL. 1990. Between Powhatan and Inst. Quirank: reconstructing Monacan culture Kidd KE. 1953. The excavation and historical and history in the context of Jamestown. Am. identification of a Huron ossuary. Am. Antiq. Anthropol. 92(3):676–90 18:359–79 Harrington JC. 1978. Archaeology as auxiliary Knight VJ. 1990. Social organization and the science to American history. See Schuyler evolution of hierarchy in Southeastern chief- 1978a, pp. 3–7 doms. J. Anthropol. Res. 46:1–23 Herskovits MJ. 1938. Acculturation: The Study Larabee EM. 1969. Historic site archaeology in of Culture Contact. New York: Augustin relation to other archaeology. Hist. Archaeol. Hoover RL. 1989. Spanish-native interaction 3:67–74 and acculturation in the Alta California mis- Leone MP, Potter PB, eds. 1988a. The Recov- sions. See Thomas 1989, pp. 396–506 ery of Meaning: Historical Archaeology in Hoover RL. 1992. Some models for Span- the Eastern United States. Washington, DC: ish colonial archaeology in California. Hist. Smithsonian Inst. Archaeol. 26(1):37–44 Leone MP, Potter PB. 1988b. Introduction: is- Hoover RL, Costello J. 1985. Excavations at sues in historical archaeology. See Leone & Mission San Antonio: the first three seasons, Potter 1988a, pp. 1–22 1976–1978. Inst. Archaeol. Monogr. 26. Los Lightfoot KG. 1995. Culture contact studies: Angeles: Univ. Calif. Press redefining the relationship between prehis- Howson JE. 1990. Social relations and material toric and historical archaeology. Am. Antiq. culture: a critique of plantation slavery. Hist. 60(2):199–217 Archaeol. 24(4):78–91 Lightfoot KG, Martinez A, Schiff AM. 1998. Hudson CM. 1997. Knights of Spain, Warriors Daily practice and material culture in plural- of the Sun: Hernando de Soto and the South’s istic social settings: an archaeological study Ancient Chiefdoms. Athens: Univ. Georgia of culture change and persistence from Fort Press Ross, California. Am. Antiq. 63(2):199–222 Hudson CM, Smith MT, De Pratter C. 1990. Little BJ. 1992. Text-Aided Archaeology. Boca The Hernando de Soto expedition: from Raton, FL: CRC Mabila to the Mississippi. See Dye & Cox Lowenthal D. 1985. The Past is a Foreign 1990, pp. 181–207 Country. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Hudson CM, Smith MT, Hally D, Polhemus Press R, De Pratter C. 1985. Coosa: a chiefdom McBride KA. 1990. The historical archaeol- in the sixteenth-century Southeastern United ogy of the Mashantucket Pequots, 1637– States. Am. Antiq. 50(4):723–37 1900: a preliminary analysis. In The Pe- Hudson CM, Smith MT, Hally D, Polhemus quots in Southern New England: The Fall and R, De Pratter C. 1987. Reply to Boyd and Rise of an American Indian Nation, ed. LM Schroedl. Am. Antiq. 52(4):845–56 Hauptman, JD Wherry, pp. 96–116. Norman: Jackson JB. 1994. A Sense of Place, A Sense of Univ. Okla. Press Time. New Haven, CT: Yale Univ. Press McBride KA. 1993. “Ancient and crazie”: P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

444 RUBERTONE

Pequot lifeways during the historic period. Life, ed. TA Singleton, pp. 83–115. Char- In Algonkians of New England: Past and lottesville: Univ. Virginia Press Present, Dublin Sem. New Engl. Folklife Murray T. 1993. The childhood of William Annu. Proc. 1991. ed. P Benes, pp. 63–75. Lanne: contact archaeology and aboriginal- Boston: Boston Univ. ity in Tasmania. Antiquity 67:504–19 Meltzer DJ. 1983. The antiquity of man and the Noel Hume I. 1962. An Indian Wareof the Colo- development of American archaeology. Adv. nial Period. Quart. Bull. Archaeol. Soc. Virg. Archaeol. Method Theory 6:1–51 17:1 Milanich JT. 1990. The European entrada into Orser CE. 1984. Trade good flow in Arikara La Florida: an overview. See Thomas 1990, villages: expanding Ray’s “middleman pp. 3–29 hypothesis.” Plains Anthropol. 29:1–12 Milanich JT, ed. 1991. The Hernando de Soto Orser CE, Owsley DW. 1982. Using Arikara Expedition. New York: Garland osteological data to evaluate an assumption Milanich JT, Hudson CM. 1993. Hernando de of fur trade archaeology. Plains Anthropol. Soto and the Indians of Florida. Gainesville: 27:195–204 Univ. Fla. Press Otto JS. 1984. Cannon’s Point Plantation, Milanich JT, Milbrath S, eds. 1989. First 1794–1860: Living Conditions and Status Encounters: Spanish Explorations in the Patterns in the Old South. New York: Aca- Caribbean and the United States, 1492– demic 1570. Gainesville: Univ. Fla. Press Pendergast JF, Trigger BG. 1972. Cartier’s Miller CL, Hamell GR. 1986. A new perspec- Hochelaga and the Dawson Site. Montreal, tive on Indian-white contact: cultural sym- Que., Can.: McGill–Queen’s Univ. Press bols and colonial trade. J. Am. Hist. 73:311– Perttula TK. 1994. Material culture of the 28 Koasati Indians of Texas. Hist. Archaeol. Miller GL. 1980. Classification and economic 28(1):65–77 scaling of 19th-century ceramics. Hist. Phillips P, Ford JA, Griffin JB. 1951. Archaeol. 14:1–40 Pap. Peabody Mus. Am. Archaeol. Ethnol. Miller GL. 1991. A revised set of CC index Vol. 25. Archaeological Survey in the Lower values for classification and economic scal- Mississippi Alluvial Valley, 1940–1947. ing of English ceramics from 1787 to 1880. Cambridge, MA: Peabody Mus Hist. Archaeol. 25(1):1–25 Quimby GI. 1966. Indian Culture and Euro- Montgomery RG, Smith W, Brew JO. 1949. pean Trade Goods: The Archaeology of the Pap. Peabody Mus. Am. Archaeol. Ethnol. Historic Period in the Western Great Lakes Vol. 36. Franciscan Awatovi; the Excavation Region. Madison: Univ. Wisc. Press and Conjectural Reconstruction of a 17th- Quimby GI. 1994. Historical archaeology century Spanish Mission Establishment at a as I saw it: 1935–1970. See South 1994, pp. Hopi Indian Town in Northeastern Arizona. 113–24 Rep. Awatovi Expedition. Cambridge, MA: Quimby GI, Spoehr A. 1951. Acculturation Peabody Mus and material culture. Fieldiana Anthropol. Morse DF, Morse PA. 1983. Archaeology of the 36:107–47 Central Mississippi Valley. New York: Aca- Ramenofsky AF. 1990. Loss of innocence: demic explanations of differential persistence in Mouer LD, Hodger ME, Potter SR, Renaud SL the sixteenth-century Southeast. See Thomas Henry, Noel Hume I, et al. 1999. Colonoware 1990, pp. 31–48 pottery, Chesapeake pipes, and “uncritical as- Ramenofsky AF. 1998. Evolutionary theory and sumptions.” In “I, Too, Am America”: Ar- the Native American record of artifact re- chaeological Studies of African-American placement. See Cusick 1998a, pp. 77–101 P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

HISTORICAL NATIVE AMERICANS 445

Ray AJ. 1978. History and archaeology of the Apalachee. In Lords of the Southeast: Social northern fur trade. Am. Antiq. 43:26–34 Inequality and Native Elites of Southeastern Redfield R, Linton R, Herskovits MJ. 1936. North America, ed. A Barker, TK Pauketat, Memorandum for the study of acculturation. pp. 163–83. Washington, DC: Am. Anthro- Am. Anthropol. 38:149–52 pol. Asssoc Rogers JD. 1990. Objects of Change: The Ar- Schuyler RL, ed. 1978a. Historical Archaeol- chaeology and History of Arikara Contact ogy: A Guide to Substantive and Theoretical with Europeans. Washington, DC: Smithso- Contributions. Farmingdale, NY: Baywood nian Inst. Schuyler RL. 1978b. Historical and historic Rogers JD, Wilson SM, eds. 1993. Ethnohistory sites archaeology as anthropology: basic and Archaeology: Approaches to Postcontact definitions and relationships. See Schuyler Change in the Americas. New York: Plenum 1978a, pp. 27–32 Rothschild NA, Mills BJ, Ferguson TJ, Dublin Silko L. 1981. Storyteller. New York: Arcade S. 1993. Abandonment at Zuni farming vil- Smith BD. 1986. The archaeology of the South- lages. In Abandonment of Settlements and eastern United States: from Dalton to de Soto, Regions: Ethnoarchaeological and Archae- 10,500–500 B.P. In Advances in World Ar- ological Approaches, ed. CM Cameron, SA chaeology, ed. F Wendorf, AE Close, 5:1–92. Tomka, pp. 123–37. Cambridge, UK: Cam- Orlando, FL: Academic bridge Univ. Press Smith CS. 1963. Time perspective within the Rubertone PE. 1989. Archaeology, colonialism, coalescent tradition of South Dakota. Am. and 17th-century Native America: towards an Antiq. 28:489–95 alternative interpretation. In Conflict in the Smith MT. 1975. European materials from the Archaeology of Living Traditions, ed. R Lay- King site. Southeast. Archaeol. Conf. Bull. ton, pp. 32–45. London: Hyman 18:63–66 Rubertone PE. 1994. Grave remembrances: en- Smith MT. 1982. ‘Eye’ beads in the Southeast. during traditions among the Narragansett. In Conf. Hist. Site Archaeol. Pap. 14:116–27 Reshaping Traditions: Native Americans in Smith MT. 1987. Archaeology of Aborigi- Southern New England, ed. J Allen. Special nal Culture Change in the Interior South- Issue Conn. Hist. 35:22–45 east: Depopulation during the Early Historic Rubertone PE. 1996. Matters of inclusion: his- Period. Gainesville: Univ. Fla. Press/Fla. torical archaeology and Native Americans. State Mus. World Archaeol. Bull. 7:77–86 South S. 1974. Palmetto Parapets. Anthropol. Rubertone PE. 2001. Grave Undertakings: An Studies 1, Occ. Pap. Inst. Archaeol. Anthrop. Archaeology of Roger Williams and the Nar- Columbia: Univ. South Carolina ragansett Indians. Washington, DC: Smith- South S, ed. 1994. Pioneers in Historical sonian Inst. Press Archaeology. New York: Plenum Sabo G, Schneider WM, eds. 1987. Visions Spector JD. 1993. What This Awl Means: Fem- and Revisions: Ethnohistorical Perspectives inist Archaeology at a Wahpeton Dakota on Southern Cultures. South. Anthropol. Soc. Village. St. Paul: Minn. Hist. Soc. Proc. 20. Athens: Univ. Georgia Press Stahl AB. 1993. Concepts of time and ap- Sahlins MD. 1981. Historical Metaphors and proaches to analogical reasoning in historical Mythical Realities: Structure in the Early perspective. Am. Antiq. 58:235–60 History of the Sandwich Islands Kingdom. Steward JH. 1942. The direct historical ap- Ann Arbor: Univ. Mich. Press proach to archaeology. Am. Antiq. 7:337– Scarry JF. 1992. Political offices and polit- 43 ical structure: ethnohistoric and archaeo- Strathern M. 1988. The Gender of the Gift: logical perspectives on the native lords of Problems with Women and Problems with P1: FBH August 28, 2000 9:45 Annual Reviews AR111-16

446 RUBERTONE

Society in Melanesia. Berkeley: Univ. Calif. from Montreal. Ethnohistory 16(4):303–16 Press Trigger BG. 1972. Hochelaga: history and Strong WD. 1935. An Introduction to ethnohistory. In Cartier’s Hochelaga and the Nebraska Archaeology. Smithsonian Misc. Dawson Site, ed. JF Pendergast, BG Trigger, Collect. 93(19). Washington, DC: Smithso- pp. 3–108. Montreal, Que., Can.: McGill– nian Inst. Queen’s Univ. Press Strong WD. 1940. From history to prehistory Trigger BG. 1980. Archaeology and the in the Northern Great Plains. In Essays in image of the American Indian. Am. Antiq. Historical Anthropology of North America. 45(4):662–76 Smithsonian Misc. Collect. 100, pp. 353–94. Trigger BG. 1986. Ethnohistory: the unfinished Washington, DC: Smithsonian Inst. edifice. Ethnohistory 33(3):253–67 Swanton JR. 1939. Final Report of the United Trigger BG. 1989. A History of Archaeological States de Soto Expedition Commission. 76th Thought. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Congr., 1st Sess., House Doc., No. 71. Press Washington, DC: GPO Turgeon L. 1997. Tale of the kettle: odyssey Thomas C. 1898. Report on the mound ex- of an intercultural object. Ethnohistory plorations of the Bureau of Ethnology. In 44(1):1–29 Annual Report, 12:3–742. Washington, DC: Upton D. 1996. Ethnicity, authenticity, and in- Bur. Ethnol. vented traditions. Hist. Archaeol. 30:1–7 Thomas DH, ed. 1989. Columbian Conse- Vernon R. 1988. 17th-century Apalachee quences. Vol. 1. Archaeological and His- colono-ware as a reflection of demogra- torical Perspectives on the Spanish Border- phy, economics, and acculturation. Hist. lands West. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Archaeol. 22(1):76–83 Inst. Walthall JA. 1980. Prehistoric Indians of the Thomas DH, ed. 1990. Columbian Conse- Southeast: Archaeology of Alabama and the quences. Vol. 2. Archaeological and Histori- Middle South. Tuscaloosa: Univ. Alabama cal Perspectives on the Spanish Borderlands Press East. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Inst. Wedel WR. 1938. The Direct-Historical Ap- Thomas N. 1991. Entangled Objects: Ex- proach in Pawnee Archaeology. Smithso- change, Material Culture, and Colonialism nian Misc. Collect. 97(7). Washington, DC: in the Pacific. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Smithsonian Inst. Univ. Press Weiner AB. 1989. Inalienable Possessions: The Tilley, CY. 1994. A Phenomenology of Land- Paradox of Keeping While Giving. Berkeley: scape: Places, Paths, and Monuments. Univ. Calif. Press Oxford, UK: Berg White JR. 1974. Historic contact sites as labo- Trigger BG. 1969. Criteria for identifying the ratories for the study of culture change. Conf. locations of historic Indian sites: a case study Hist. Site Archaeol. Pap. 9:153–63