Circular Villages of the Monongahela Tradition

Circular Villages of the Monongahela Tradition

Circular Villages of the Monongahela Tradition

BER NAR D K . M E ANS

THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA PRESS

Tuscaloosa

Copyright © 2007 The University of Alabama Press Tuscaloosa, Alabama 35487–0380 All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America Typeface: Minion ∞ The paper on which this book is printed meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences-Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Means, Bernard K. (Bernard Klaus), 1964– Circular villages of the Monongahela tradition / Bernard K. Means. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978-0-8173-1573-3 (cloth : alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-8173-1573-X ISBN-13: 978-0-8173-5438-1 (pbk. : alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-8173-5438-7 1. Indians of North America—Dwellings—Pennsylvania. 2. Indians of North America— Dwellings—Monongahela River Valley (W. Va. and Pa.) 3. Indian architecture Monongahela River Valley (W. Va. and Pa.) 4. Central-plan buildings—Monongahela River Valley (W. Va. and Pa.) 5. Land settlement patterns—Monongahela River Valley (W. Va. and Pa.) 6. Social archaeology—Monongahela River Valley (W. Va. and Pa.) 7. Monongahela River Valley (W. Va. and Pa.)—Antiquities. I. Title. E78.P4M35 2007 974.8′801—dc22 2006102622

Contents

List of Illustrations Acknowledgments

vii ix

1. Village Spatial Layouts and Social Organizations

1

2. A Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition and the New Chronology for Allegheny Mountains Villages 13 3. Villages, Communities, and Social Organizations

31

4. Building Models of Village Spatial and Social Organizations 5. Models and Hypotheses Related to Community Organization 6. Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches

40 69

86

7. Modeling Community Patterning from Select Village Components in the Allegheny Mountains Region 106 8. Comparative Analyses from Modeling Individual Village Components 145 9. Implications Drawn from Interpreting Community Organization through Village Spatial Layouts 155 References Cited Index

189

165

List of Illustrations

FIGURES 1. Maximum extent of the Monongahela tradition

2

2. DeBry’s version of John White’s 1585 watercolor of the village of Pomeioc, North Carolina 4 3. Villages sites in Somerset County, Pennsylvania

10

4. Select drainages in the Allegheny Mountains region 5. Reconstruction of a Monongahela village

20

6. Diametric model of a ring-shaped settlement 7. An Omaha tribal camping circle 8. Map of a Zulu homestead

46

47

49

9. Concentric model of a ring-shaped settlement 10. Village of Omarakana

17

50

51

11. Yellen’s model of a ring-shaped settlement 12. Portnoy’s model of a ring-shaped settlement 13. Map of Fort Ancient Mayo Site 14. Radial model of the Mayo Site

56 57

58 59

15. Map of Fort Ancient SunWatch site

60

16. Circumferential model of a ring-shaped settlement

62

17. Hub-and-spoke model of a ring-shaped settlement

66

18. Circular histogram of grave orientations at Gnagey 3

104

viii / Illustrations 19. Circumferential graph of features at Gnagey 3-2 20. Map of Gnagey 3

108

21. Map of Petenbrink 1 22. Map of Peck 1

115

23. Map of Peck 2

117

113

24. Map of Clouse

122

25. Map of Hanna

123

26. Map of Fort Hill 27. Map of Gower

125 130

28. Map of Reckner

132

29. Map of Powell 1

134

30. Map of Powell 2

136

31. Map of Troutman 32. Map of Emerick

105

138 140

33. Site plans arranged by increasing size

147

34. Site plans arranged by age and by increasing size

148

TABLES 1. De¤nite Allegheny Mountains region village sites

25

2. Radiocarbon assays for Allegheny Mountains region village sites

27

3. Areal extent of major social spaces at Allegheny Mountains region village sites 107 4. Descriptive statistics and population estimates for dwellings at Allegheny Mountains region villages 109 5. Dwelling clusters and population at select Allegheny Mountains region villages 152

Acknowledgments

A portion of the material presented in this work was supported by the National Science Foundation under Grant No. (BCS-0226785) titled “Modeling Somerset Monongahela Village Organization Within a Chronological Framework Developed through AMS Dating of Curated Organic Remains.” My research also bene¤tted materially from a Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission Scholars in Residence grant. Without the generosity of artifact loans from The State Museum of Pennsylvania and the Carnegie Museum of Natural History, this work would not have been possible. The State Museum of Pennsylvania and the Pennsylvania State Archives made available all the original ¤eld records and photographs from the New Deal excavations in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, and these are relied on throughout this work. Washington and Lee University’s Glenn Grant Publication Fund aided publication of this book. My wife, Laura J. Galke of Washington and Lee University, provided a key illustration in this work, helped to further clarify its contents, and patiently supported the writing process. Finally, I would like to thank the critical appraisal of John Hart and an anonymous reviwer of an earlier draft of this manuscript. This work is stronger for their comments, but all misinterpretations or errors in this work are solely my responsibilty.

Circular Villages of the Monongahela Tradition

1 Village Spatial Layouts and Social Organizations

Across time and space, a signi¤cant shift in how social groups con¤gured themselves has repeatedly taken place: families abandoned their millennial-long practice of living in small dispersed settlements to reside with other families in aggregated village settlements. Wills (1991:161) stressed the importance of this shift when he noted that “the organization of unranked social groups into village communities is a remarkably widespread phenomenon that bespeaks a profound adaptive strength.” In northeastern North America (hereafter the Northeast), villages became a ubiquitous part of the social landscape during the Late Prehistoric period (ca. a.d. 900 to Contact), following the adoption of maize horticulture as the primary subsistence strategy (Church and Nass 2002; Hart and Means 2002; Smith 1992). Despite the widespread presence of village sites in this region, archaeological studies at the community level remain at their infancy. A serious limitation on our understanding of the past peoples that once inhabited the Late Prehistoric Northeast is that their af¤liations to historically known tribes have been long lost or are ambiguous. Pre-Contact inhabitants of a region that encompasses large portions of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and most of Kentucky and West Virginia include groups referred to as “Poorly Known Tribes of the Ohio Valley and Interior” (Trigger 1978:ix). Direct knowledge of native inhabitants in this area is limited primarily to what can be extracted from the archaeological record. The upper segment of the Ohio Valley has an archaeological record known best from the remains of excavated village sites. Village sites from this region have been assigned to a taxonomic unit referred to as the “Monongahela culture” (Figure 1). A robust understanding of village community organization has been hampered by widespread use of the overly broad Monongahela taxon, which was de¤ned within the cultural-historical paradigm in the 1930s and 1950s (Means 2003). The Monongahela taxon subsumes a considerable

2 / Chapter 1

1. Maximum geographic extent of the Monongahela tradition.

amount of variation in the material expressions of cultural practices (Hart 1993; McHugh 1984; Raber et al. 1989:39), which differed over time and space. The use of the Monongahela taxon has led to an overgeneralization of similarities and a suppression of differences within and between village sites. Individual village sites are often characterized as having been created according to a broadly de¤ned typical settlement form. By ignoring or dismissing variation between Monongahela taxon village sites, archaeologists have been unable to successfully compare these sites within a developmental sequence. Complex social relationships too often have been reduced to a level of abstraction that has little explanatory value, if considered at all. For reasons explored in Chapter 2, the phrase “Monongahela tradition” is preferred over Monongahela taxon or the more commonly used “Monongahela culture.” Although the cultural af¤liations of Monongahela tradition populations are not de¤nitively known, the manner in which they commonly con¤gured their village sites is quite evident. Ongoing excavations beginning in the 1930s demonstrated that Monongahela tradition village sites frequently consisted of a circular or oval occupation zone that formed a band around a central open space—a formally de¤ned plaza—devoid of most cultural features (George 1974; Hart 1993; Johnson 2001; Johnson et al. 1989; Mayer-Oakes 1955). That is, their village sites were ring-shaped.

Village Spatial Layouts / 3 The so-called typical ring-shaped Monongahela tradition village site as described by regional scholars is a widespread, almost archetypal settlement form. Ring-shaped settlements once existed throughout much of the Eastern Woodlands, from New England and New York into Virginia and the Carolinas and throughout the Middle and Upper Ohio Valleys (Bushnell 1919; Drooker 1997:48; Grif¤n 1978:559; Hart 1993; Johnson et al. 1989; Mayer-Oakes 1955; Ward and Davis 1993). This basic settlement form has also been recorded elsewhere in North America and throughout the world, including the camping circles once formed by some native Plains Indian groups during annual buffalo hunts (Bushnell 1922:129; Dorsey 1884:215, 1894:523, 1897; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911; Fraser 1968:20–21; Guidoni 1975:31–36; Lévi-Strauss 1953:528) and in settlements located in New Guinea (Fraser 1968:31; Lévi-Strauss 1963a:136), Central Brazil (Bennett 1949:13; Fabian 1992:37; Gross 1979:329; James 1949; Lévi-Strauss 1953:528, 1963a:137; Lowie 1946a:383, 1946b:420, 1946c:482; Wüst and Barreto 1999), Puerto Rico (Siegel 1997:109), southern Africa (Kuper 1993; Yellen 1977), and in early agricultural villages in Mesoamerica and the Near East (Flannery 1972:30–38, 2002:422). A ring-shaped village is the subject of John White’s iconic illustration of the village of Pomeioc, located in what is now North Carolina (Figure 2). Pomeioc and some of its inhabitants were painted by White following his visit to the village in July 1585 as part of Sir Walter Ralegh’s failed attempt to establish a colony in the New World (Hulton 1984:10; Quinn 1985:68). White’s watercolor of Pomeioc depicts villagers actively interacting within a palisaded community where a ring of houses surrounds an open plaza. Several individuals are shown performing a ceremony around a rather large ¤re located in the center of the plaza. Monongahela tradition villages likely would have resembled Pomeioc, except that their dwellings had circular ®oor plans. The watercolors of Pomeioc and its inhabitants are of unparalleled value; they breathe life into an otherwise static past that often left few material traces (Quinn 1985:182). Impermanent aspects of material culture captured by White include architectural details and modes of personal dress, body adornment, and even hair styles (Hulton 1984:27–28). Ring-shaped sites in the Eastern Woodlands are not limited to villages inhabited by maize agriculturalists of the recent past. Middle Archaic foragers in Louisiana, for example, initiated construction of the Watson Brake mound complex around 3350 b.c. (Saunders et al. 2005:631). Two curved earthworks form an oval around an open area devoid of cultural remains. The two earthworks consist of eleven mounds connected by arti¤cial ridges (Saunders et al. 2005:632). The central open area is thought to have served as ritual space and the encircling ridges had a more domestic function (Saunders et al. 2005:631, 665). As explored in Chapter 4, Watson Brake is structured in a similar fashion

4 / Chapter 1

2. DeBry image of John White’s 1585 watercolor of the village of Pomeioc, North Carolina (from Lorant, The New World, 1946).

to more recent ring-shaped villages of the Eastern Woodlands, where a domestic zone encircled a central ritual or ceremonial space. The ring-shaped settlement form arose repeatedly and independently in different times and places—and among cultures of varying complexity. The phrase “ring shaped” was adopted in this work from Wüst and Barreto’s (1999) characterization of Central Brazilian village settlements, the layouts of which

Village Spatial Layouts / 5 closely correspond to those of many village sites in the Eastern Woodlands. The ring-shaped village has been viewed as a fairly modular settlement form (Wills 1991:162), which readily enables its inhabitants to arrange material elements— notably dwellings—to accommodate a wide variety of social organizations present at varying scales. The layout of a ring-shaped settlement is intentionally manipulated to reinforce the local social order and often is explicitly perceived as a microcosm of the universe, rather than passively re®ecting its constituent social groups (Maybury-Lewis 1989a:11; Pearson and Richards 1994:12). The act of linking their settlement’s layout to their model of reality enhances the stability of the local group (Fletcher 1977:64). In other words, the inhabitants of ring-shaped settlements are cognizant on some level of the active role that material elements and their arrangements play in maintaining, perpetuating, and even generating social interactions (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:138; Gross 1979:329, 337; James 1949:48; Lowie 1946a, 1946b; Means 1999a:35, 2000a:44, 2001, 2002a; Pearson and Richards 1994:12). Changes in village layouts re®ect lessons learned from earlier manifestations of a community and the development of new or modi¤cation of extant social institutions to better manage increasingly large groups of people working and living alongside one another (Carneiro 1967:239; Eggan 1955:495; Gumerman 1994:9). Ring-shaped settlements attracted the attention of ethnographers as early as the late nineteenth century, with some noting that these settlements are designed by their inhabitants according to geometric models (Dorsey 1884:215, 1894:523, 1897). Especially beginning with the work of Lévi-Strauss in the 1950s, ethnographers have argued that geometric models had social and ideological dimensions. Community-wide planning principles generated by these geometric models in®uence to some degree the spatial con¤guration of social groups—and their associated architectural elements, especially dwellings. As is evident from this work’s cross-cultural sampling of societies, presented in Chapter 4, discrete social groups of varying sizes and levels of political, social, or economic integration can arrange themselves within their ring-shaped settlements according to one of a variety of geometric models. Ethnoarchaeological and archaeological studies in the latter half of the twentieth century argued that geometric models in®uence the distribution of activities within a ring-shaped settlement, usually with respect to the con¤guration of architectural remains (Dunnell 1983; Yellen 1977). Depending on their nature, activities are arranged spatially with respect either to individual dwellings or to the entire band of dwellings that encircle a central communal space. That geometric models in®uence the distribution of activities, architecture, and social spaces associated with social groups at ring-shaped settlements should not come as a surprise. My review of these settlements indicates that geometric models in®uence not only the locations of social groups but also the locations of the material aspects of a settlement’s layout, resulting in a non-

6 / Chapter 1 random distribution of all or some material remnants. At known ring-shaped villages, social groups are evident physically in the distributions and con¤gurations of their dwellings. The placement of these dwellings structures interactions within the village, including the nature and location of activities with respect to individual dwellings and to all dwellings, which form an occupation zone around the centrally located plaza. One can expect village social organizations to be re®ected in the spatial arrangement of some or all material remains at their village sites. The comparatively large number of completely excavated village sites from the Allegheny Mountains region of Pennsylvania are well suited to addressing three broad goals central to this work. First, geometric models responsible for the con¤guration of all or some archaeologically recovered elements of Monongahela tradition village sites should be determinable from each site’s community pattern. Second, the kinds of social groups once present within these village sites should be identi¤able at least to some degree from the nature and con¤guration of archaeologically recovered elements. Third, objectively identifying variation—if any—in village community patterns and corresponding social organizations should enable a consideration of whether these changed systematically over time. The third goal is directed toward potential social transformations that may have occurred in village communities after they emerged in the Upper Ohio Valley. This work is not concerned directly with the question of why villages ¤rst emerged in this region. THEORETICAL PERSPECTIVE In recent American archaeology, a continued focus on the household as the major unit of study has led some researchers to lose sight of a basic fact: households in village settlements intentionally chose to be part of a larger social entity—the community. Village sites such as those inhabited in the Allegheny Mountains region represented a particular type of community—the nucleated community—and differed from communities made of dispersed households. Yaeger and Canuto (2000) argued that the community as an entity in and of itself has largely been neglected in many household archaeology studies, and in larger-scale settlement pattern studies as well. To understand community organization, one must examine patterning evident at the level of the entire village site and not simply from one segment extrapolated to characterize an entire village site. All too often, there is at least an implicit assumption that any one segment of a village site—such as one or two households—is interchangeable with other broadly similar segments. The concept of the community is the appropriate scale for examining social relationships at and above the household level (Adler 2002:25). I consider a theoretical framework that relies on anthro-

Village Spatial Layouts / 7 pological and ethnoarchaeological studies of community organization to be best suited to interpreting the archaeologically recovered aspects of village layouts in terms of village social organizations. Studies of built environments and the social and behavioral use of space indicate that a settlement’s layout, “society’s largest and most complex artefact” (Parkington and Mills 1991:365, quoted in Widlok 1999:399), can shape and be shaped by the various social groups present, as well as the activities that these groups conduct within the settlement. The ring-shaped settlement is a special case of a settlement form that is clearly built according to models that attempt to impose and maintain a geometric order on the layout of the settlement as it exists in a horizontal plane. As touched on earlier, a cross-cultural and crosstemporal review of ring-shaped settlements and models developed to explain their form and shape suggests that these geometric models used to spatially order major social groups within a settlement re®ect an ideal framework—a framework that frequently has a cosmological basis. Because geometric models can spatially order both social groups and activities within a ring-shaped settlement, they generate activity structures that are geometric in their patterning. Considering more broadly both cognitive and behavioral aspects of these geometric models, one can argue that, for ringshaped villages, community-wide planning principles exist that in®uence the organization of, and place certain constraints on, the intravillage distribution of the architectural remains and social spaces that were created and maintained by various social groups. In other words, a community’s activity structure is generated partly by the interaction between village social groups with the geometric models they used to plan a site’s layout. For these reasons, ringshaped settlements should be ideal for considering how social organizations can appear on at least some level within the spatial structure of a settlement’s layout. Although writing of village settlements in general, Gillespie (2000a:7) underscored a similar point when she noted that the village is “a meaningfully constituted layout around which people organize behaviors.” More than one geometric model can operate at any one time or at different stages in the occupational history of a settlement, depending on how social, behavioral, and ideological factors affect the relationships that generate the layouts of a given ring-shaped settlement. For example, one ideal geometric model may have been responsible for the distribution of village social groups and certain material elements, especially dwellings or dwelling clusters associated with the social groups. Other geometric models can then come into play that act to in®uence the locations of various activities. Disposal of a community’s more noxious refuse, for example, can take place in a ring outside of the main occupation zone, regardless of how social groups and their associated dwellings are distributed within this zone. Dwellings are expected to provide

8 / Chapter 1 one of the strongest indicators of a settlement’s geometric models, either with respect to their own arrangement within a settlement or in terms of the distribution of other material elements relative to dwellings. Thus, the basic premise of this study is that community organization can be modeled from the remains of village sites; the layout of a village settlement can re®ect past social organizations. There is a wide range of possible social groups that could be represented spatially within a ring-shaped village. Social groups could range from spatially discrete and functionally redundant households to household clusters representing more formal corporate entities, such as lineages, clans, or Lévi-Straussian “societies of houses” (Brooks and Yellen 1987; Dancey 1988; Hart 1993; Hull 1987; Lea 1995; Lévi-Strauss 1982; O’Connell 1987; Pollack and Henderson 1992). The recently formulated Lévi-Straussian “societies of houses” concept describes a form of social organization where social groups form to maintain “property” from generation to generation, including their “ownership” of part of a village circle (Gillespie 2000a). STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM, MODELS, AND HYPOTHESES The social transformations that occurred after Monongahela tradition populations—and other groups in the Northeast—shifted to seasonal or year-round co-residence in village settlements are not well understood. For the Monongahela tradition, this failure to fully understand social transformations associated with living in villages stems partly from a lack of understanding of the organizing principles that generated the layouts of their ring-shaped settlements. Not knowing until recently the age of occupation for many Monongahela tradition village sites also curtailed efforts to determine whether there was a temporal shift in the nature of the organizing principles that operated at these sites. To address these issues, two sets of models with archaeological correlates and one set of hypotheses were developed for this work. The ¤rst set of models considers selected Monongahela tradition villages in terms of geometric models that potentially characterize all or some aspects of a village’s community pattern and were formulated following a review of ethnohistorical, ethnographic, and archaeological studies of ring-shaped settlements. The ¤rst model is concerned with whether the material remnants of a village site form two discrete clusters, potentially indicating the former presence of a dual social organization. Assessment of the next four models helps ascertain the nature of radial patterning present at a ring-shaped village site, ranging from a generalized zone of features, artifacts, and dwellings around a central plaza to functionally distinct radial bands. The sixth geometric model considers whether the radial band or bands of material elements present at a ring-shaped village are divided into discrete segments akin to pie wedges, i.e.,

Village Spatial Layouts / 9 representing circumferential patterning. A seventh model argues that radial and circumferential patterning in the distribution of material elements at a ring-shaped village site should be considered simultaneously. The nature and types of village social groups are illuminated through examination of village sites in terms of the second set of models. Some kinds of social groups that might have been present at Monongahela tradition village sites include lineages, clans, sodalities, moieties, and Lévi-Straussian societies of houses. The second set of models also generates a more thorough understanding of the social, behavioral, or ideological factors that acted to in®uence speci¤c Monongahela tradition village layouts. These models assist a determination of whether households within a village were autonomous or more formally linked, whether a dual organization or sodalities were present at a site, and whether status distinctions in®uenced village spatial organizations. Finally, intercommunity comparisons are considered through implementation of a set of hypotheses. These hypotheses examine whether villages increased in size steadily through time—as some have argued—or whether the range of village sizes increased through time—as others contend. Particular attention is directed toward a consideration of whether observed variation between community patterns from individual sites re®ected directional cultural change or individual responses to unique historical and local circumstances. Examination of the ¤nal hypothesis should enable a determination of whether larger village components were more recent and more structurally complex than smaller village components. NATURE OF THE DATA The majority of excavated Monongahela tradition village sites—and many other village sites in the Eastern Woodlands for that matter—are not well suited to an examination of patterning at the community level because only a small portion of their site plans were exposed horizontally. These village layouts were usually revealed through relatively small and discontinuous excavation blocks. Many uncertainties are generated in the modeling of community patterns when village layouts are extrapolated from the excavated portions of such sites. To facilitate this study, village components that were selected had their community patterns completely, or nearly completely, exposed. Most completely exposed Monongahela tradition village components were excavated as part of federal relief excavations in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, in the 1930s and 1940 (Figure 3) (Augustine 1938a, 1938b, 1938c, 1938d, 1940; Butler 1939; Cresson 1942; Means 1998a). However, these village components once lacked secure chronological data. No matter how objectively the different village components can be compared, the amount of variation in village

10 / Chapter 1

3. Village sites investigated as part of federal relief excavations in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, between 1934 and 1940.

organization that existed at any one point in time—and the degree to which this variation was related to changes in intra- and intercommunity relations— cannot be determined in the absence of reasonably secure chronological data; nor can comparisons be made to general trends in the Northeast during the Late Prehistoric period without these data. A project funded by the National Science Foundation (NSF) enabled the ages of many of these village components to be determined through accelerator mass spectrometry (AMS) dating of organic remains and ceramics with organic residues curated in museum collections (see Chapter 2 for an overview; see also Means 2005a, 2006a; Means and Galke 2004). Whether excavated in the 1930s or more recently, Monongahela tradition village sites investigated in this work are examined in terms of ¤ve major groups of variables. Variable Group 1 is related to the overall nature of each village component, including its areal extent and whether its layout was in®u-

Village Spatial Layouts / 11 enced by topographic and environmental factors. Variable Group 2 pertains to architectural elements and includes dwellings and post-enclosed features used for storage. The size of individual dwellings and their distribution within each village component offer one of the strongest lines of evidence for inferring the nature of past village social groups. Nonarchitectural features—such as hearths, graves, and pits of unknown primary function—characterize Variable Group 3. These features provide a direct indication of some activities and where they occurred, and to what extent the activity structure of Monongahela tradition village communities was in®uenced by geometric models. Variable Group 4 consists of spaces de¤ned by architectural elements, including the plaza. The phrase “ring-shaped village” implies the presence of a plaza, which was usually the largest space within a Monongahela tradition village and was one of the more important elements in®uencing village layouts. Finally, Variable Group 5 considers material culture, with a particular emphasis on how the distributions of artifact classes are useful for examining whether geometric models in®uenced the distribution of discrete activity areas. The spatial distribution of stylistic artifact classes and individual stylistic attributes also potentially reveals whether certain types of village social organizations, such as dual organizations, were present. CONCLUSIONS Monongahela tradition village sites in this work are considered against geometric models that, at their root, are ideal representations of reality. These village sites represent the remnants of past communities. Villagers lived and died here, welcomed new members through birth or emigration, and saw others leave, perhaps to join another village or to found new settlements of their own. How well community patterns correlate to one or more of a suite of geometric models is in®uenced—like any other archaeological site—by the once dynamic nature of these communities and, of course, by postdepositional processes (Ascher 1968; Schiffer 1987). It is expected that some individual Monongahela tradition community patterns deviate considerably from the ideal geometric models that in®uenced their layouts at their initial establishment. Nonetheless, simply describing and quantifying spatial patterning within each village’s layout in terms of models with a geometric basis—in and of itself—produces an enhanced understanding of community organization. Spatial patterning is examined here to infer the presence of and interrelationships among various social groups, potentially allowing villages to be distinguished along a rough continuum: from sites with households that appear to have been fairly autonomous, to those with households apparently linked informally (e.g., informal economic pooling networks), to villages where households appear to have more formal, institutional kinds of social groups (e.g.,

12 / Chapter 1 lineages, clans, moieties, or Lévi-Straussian societies of houses). This study suggests that social changes were generated in part by attempts to impose and maintain a geometric order on the arrangement of various elements in a village’s layout, beginning at its initial establishment. These geometric models were balanced against the reality of living in a dynamic community, where individuals—and the social groups of which they were a part—sometimes made decisions that put them at odds with one another. This work shows that analysis of village spatial layouts can lead to a greater anthropological understanding of the past peoples who inhabited the Upper Ohio Valley than the still prevalent cultural-historical emphasis on de¤ning a “Monongahela culture.” Geometric models clearly were a major factor in®uencing the initial spatial layouts of Monongahela village components, especially dwelling clusters that indicated social divisions within a village. Formal economic, social, or political links between households are evident at all Monongahela tradition village components that had layouts uncompromised by postdepositional or other factors. These formal links appeared as dwelling clusters that occupied discrete segments of dwelling rings at ring-shaped Monongahela tradition villages. At some villages, these corporate groups were small—approximately 15 to 20 residents—and probably represented extended or multifamily groups. Other village sites had multidwelling corporate groups— ranging from approximately 30 to 100 residents—that were minimally lineage segments, clans, or perhaps a form of social organization akin to the LéviStraussian society of houses concept. Evidence for other types of social groups that one might have expected at Monongahela tradition village sites was limited and ambiguous. Further, contrary to expectations based on a reading of the literature, ring-shaped Allegheny Mountains region villages that were more recent in the local developmental sequence did not necessarily have better designed layouts than older village components. This focus on examining ring-shaped village spatial layouts in terms of geometric models can be extended to sites located throughout the Eastern Woodlands—and beyond—regardless of “cultural” af¤liation. Although this work uses Monongahela tradition village sites as the primary case studies, the organizational principles underlying their settlements are not unique to the Upper Ohio Valley. Rather than comparing one “culture” to another, archaeologists can use the tools and techniques presented in this work to objectively analyze and directly compare the spatial structure of ring-shaped settlements and also to elucidate how potential social organizations were distributed within these settlements according to geometric models. Such an effort will successfully challenge our ideas about social organizational change in the Eastern Woodlands during the last few centuries before sustained European contact.

2 A Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition and the New Chronology for Allegheny Mountains Villages

A basic tenet of this work is that—because they were generally ring shaped— Monongahela tradition village sites are best studied through application of geometric models derived from a cross-cultural and cross-temporal survey of other ring-shaped village communities. The reader does not necessarily need a detailed knowledge of the Monongahela tradition to follow the analysis and interpretation of village community patterns and village social organizations presented in this work. To enable readers to situate this work’s ¤ndings in a larger regional context, a general culture history of the Upper Ohio Valley during the Late Prehistoric period is presented here, with additional emphasis on the Allegheny Mountains region. All Monongahela tradition village sites analyzed in this work are from the Allegheny Mountains region. These village sites were selected for three principal reasons. First, most had their layouts completely exposed and therefore are well suited for evaluating the nature of geometric models underlying and in®uencing the layouts of these ring-shaped settlements. Second, these village sites are located in relatively close geographic proximity and have broadly similar environmental and topographic settings that played a minimal role in in®uencing village layouts. Third, all village sites in the region were thought to have been con¤ned to the same temporal span. All were previously assigned to the Somerset Phase of the Early Monongahela period based on apparent cultural similarities and a perception that all were occupied between a.d. 900 and a.d. 1250 (George 1983a; Johnson et al. 1989). Thus, the perception was that villagers participated in a social network that had at least some major cultural traditions in common. Following from this, it was expected that examination of their ring-shaped sites could show whether geometric models used to design their settlements drew primarily from general geometric principles or from a shared set of organizing principles endemic to a local cultural tradition. This chapter begins with a consideration of maize agriculture and villages,

14 / Chapter 2 because the adoption of maize agriculture is often viewed as the major catalyst leading to the rise of village settlements in the Northeast and elsewhere. A heavy reliance on maize agriculture characterized the subsistence economy of many village communities in the Northeast during the Late Prehistoric period. The issue of how effective culture-historic taxa are for some analyses of Late Prehistoric groups is then broached, particularly relative to how this issue pertains to the Monongahela tradition. The next part of this chapter turns to the physiography of the Allegheny Mountains region. The chapter then concentrates on the Monongahela tradition itself, including a consideration of major trends in settlement-subsistence data and possible relationships to historically known native groups. Finally, a revised temporal framework is developed through AMS dating for the Allegheny Mountains region. MAIZE, AGRICULTURE, AND VILLAGES IN THE NORTHEAST A few general comments on maize-oriented agricultural economies, their impact on social groups, and the potential connection to the rise of village settlements are warranted before further consideration of the Monongahela tradition. Maize agriculture ¤gures prominently in some explanations of the rise and development of village settlements in the Northeast and beyond. Like elsewhere, archaeologists in the Northeast are exploring the multiple pathways that were followed in the domestication of maize and the rise of nucleated villages (Hart and Means 2002). There is a tenuous understanding throughout the Northeast regarding the timing of the ¤rst appearance of nucleated villages in local developmental sequences and what material and social structural changes these villages exhibited through time (Hart and Means 2002). New techniques and a reassessment of earlier ¤ndings have led to a reevaluation of local developmental sequences and a rewriting of chronological frameworks for some regions. Analyses of older collections, some dating to the 1930s, have been central to this effort (Hart 1999, 2000; Hart and Means 2002; Means 2001, 2002a, 2002b, 2002d, 2005a, 2005b, 2006a; Means and Galke 2004). During the Late Prehistoric period, maize-oriented agricultural economies were established over a broad area of the Eastern Woodlands (Smith 1992:292). In the archaeological record of most regions of the New World, nucleated village settlements appeared either as maize was locally domesticated or a few centuries after its initial appearance. Hart (2001) pointed out that the relationship between the domestication of maize and human populations was necessarily one of mutual dependence. The close relationship between maize agriculture and nucleated village sites in many areas suggested that inhabitants of those regions chose to reinforce their social and economic networks by coresidence. Adoption of maize agriculture did not always inspire or support the aggre-

Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition / 15 gation of local populations into village settlements. Maize was adopted by a variety of cultures at different levels of complexity throughout the Eastern Woodlands. These included some groups who either never inhabited village settlements or did so long after they began cultivating maize (Hart and Means 2002). Bender (1978:204) asserted that commitment to agriculture is not primarily a question of technology but rather one of changing social relations. Therefore, it is not surprising that tribal social networks became more widespread in the Northeast by the beginning of the Late Prehistoric period (Carr and Maslowski 1995; Dragoo 1976; Ford 1974). Tribal social networks likely developed to even out environmental unpredictability by distributing goods from different spatial loci and information about environmental conditions at these same loci (Braun and Plog 1982). Studies of modern slash-and-burn agriculturalists in Mesoamerica indicate that individuals rely on other members of their community—who are not always kin—to tend their ¤elds while they construct or repair their own dwellings, or for help with other tasks including clearing the area for their dwellings. Individuals who draw on the labor of other community members in turn provide their own labor to others when they need assistance (Sandstrom 2000:59– 61). Group cooperation would be necessary to clear an area for a village settlement (Lowie 1949:336; Myers 1973:244). Concentrating a social group into a single village settlement—at least seasonally—was one major strategy for ensuring that suf¤cient people were present in the right places at the proper times to perform labor-intensive tasks associated with maize horticulture, such as clearing areas for planting (Moeller 2001:2). The appearance of nucleated settlements is usually associated in the Northeast with a shift to maize horticulture as the primary subsistence strategy. These settlements eased the scheduling and mobilization of labor required on a local community level to successfully implement this maize-focused subsistence strategy (Church and Nass 2002; Hart and Means 2002). However, the mechanisms and developmental sequences that led to the nucleation of dispersed hamlets into villages remain unclear for many parts of the Eastern Woodlands (Hart and Means 2002). Also unclear are the social transformations that occurred after populations shifted to at least seasonal co-residence in village settlements. CULTURE-HISTORIC TAXA AND THE LATE PREHISTORIC PERIOD IN THE NORTHEAST The archaeological record of large parts of the Northeast during the Late Prehistoric period is organized around a series of culture-historic taxa, many developed by the 1950s. These taxa include not only the Monongahela culture taxon of the Upper Ohio Valley but also the Fort Ancient culture taxon of the

16 / Chapter 2 Middle Ohio Valley, the Clemson’s Island culture taxon located along the main, north, and west branches of the Susquehanna River, and the Montgomery Complex along the Middle Potomac River. Some archaeologists have attacked the appropriateness and utility of these culture-historic taxa (Dent et al. 2002; Graybill 1984; Hart 1999; Hart and Brumbach 2003; Hart et al. 2005; Means 2003). A critique of the Owasco cultural taxon includes a number of salient points that can be extended to other taxa in the Northeast. Hart and Brumbach (2003:738) noted that culture-historic taxa as units of analysis “are formally, temporally, and spatially bounded units that are extensionally de¤ned so as to minimize internal variation.” The use of culture-historic taxa is consistent with an Americanist archaeological tradition dating to the 1940s and 1950s (Hart 1999). The efforts of these earlier archaeologists were intended to provide chronological and spatial control for taxa that were used for subsequent processual and evolutionary analyses (Hart 1999:20; Hart and Brumbach 2003:738). Hart and Brumbach (2003:749) emphasize that, despite what many archaeologists consider today, the Owasco and other taxa are not equivalent to an ethnographic culture or to an ethnic group. The misuse of the Owasco taxon has led archaeologists to ignore variation in the material record of the past in favor of broad generalities with limited explanatory merit (Hart and Brumbach 2003). Hart and Brumbach (2003:749–750) emphasize the dangers in equating culture-historic taxa with direct correlates of ethnic groups, language groups, or cultures at any time in the past. The use and abuse of culture-historic taxa also can lead archaeologists to interpret change as progressive and occurring only at major temporal divisions within the taxa (Hart and Brumbach 2003). Similar arguments can be extended to the Monongahela, Fort Ancient, and Montgomery Complex culture taxons as well. Hart (1999) and Hart and Brumbach (2003:750) suggested abandoning culture-historic taxa and emphasized that cultural changes are best viewed from the perspective of a local developmental sequence, where differences in the variables under consideration—in this case, village organization—are more likely to be caused by social interactions within a local population. Some archaeologists in the Northeast now substitute the word “tradition” for “culture” in an effort to avoid implying that these traditions necessarily equate to a single cultural entity such as a tribe (see, for example, Drooker and Cowan 2001 and Hart et al. 2005). It is for similar reasons that the phrase “Monongahela tradition” is favored over the more valueladen “Monongahela culture” or “Monongahela taxon.” PHYSIOGRAPHY OF THE ALLEGHENY MOUNTAINS REGION Because all case studies considered in this work are from the Allegheny Mountains region, only the physiography of this region is considered here (Figure 4).

Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition / 17

4. Select major drainages in the Allegheny Mountains region and the locations of the Con®uence and Meyersdale areas within Somerset County, Pennsylvania.

This region falls primarily within the Appalachian Plateau Province, where it is otherwise referred to as the Allegheny Mountain Section. The Appalachian Plateau Province is also separated into the Glaciated Section, Allegheny High Plateau, and the Pittsburgh Section (Raber 1985:164). Most archaeological investigations in the Allegheny Mountains region have occurred in an area coterminous with Somerset County, Pennsylvania, especially in the vicinity of the Borough of Meyersdale (Means 2002c). The Allegheny Mountains region is drained by the Youghiogheny and Casselman rivers, which form a portion of the headwaters of the Ohio River Drainage (Augustine 1938a:6; Flint 1965:14; Wall 1981:3). The Raystown Branch of the Juniata River—part of the Susquehanna River Drainage—originates in Somerset County, as do several headwaters of the Potomac River (Flint 1965:14). Thus, this region’s geographic placement indicates that it potentially served as a crossroads between cultural

18 / Chapter 2 developments that occurred in different parts of the Northeast and Middle Atlantic regions. The Casselman River originates in western Maryland as a headwater drainage. Few sections of developed ®oodplain are present along the western Maryland segment of the river. Shortly after the Casselman River enters Pennsylvania, it develops major zones of ®at, extensive ®oodplain. These occur at bends in the river and at major con®uences (Wall 1981:78). The majority of village sites discussed in this work occur on or adjacent to the extensive areas of ®oodplain near the Boroughs of Meyersdale and Con®uence. In the vicinity of Meyersdale, landforms that contained cultural remains included ®oodplains of the Casselman River and tributary streams; the riverine terrace system along the Casselman River; small rises on the ®oodplain or riverine terraces; lower slopes; rockshelters on middle slopes; hillside benches; and ridge tops. Elevations of these landforms range from 584 meters at the banks of the Casselman River to 695 meters in the uplands that rise quickly from the river’s banks (Means 2006a). MONONGAHELA TRADITION OVERVIEW Major archaeological investigations in the Upper Ohio Valley were initiated at the height of the Great Depression partly to learn more about the poorly known aboriginal inhabitants of southwestern Pennsylvania (Augustine 1938a, 1938b, 1938c, 1938d, 1940; Butler 1939; Means 1998a). Some leading scholars at the time disputed whether there had ever been a substantial aboriginal occupation of the region. From 1934 to 1940, the Somerset County, Pennsylvania, Relief Excavations (SCRE) undertook large-scale excavations of village sites to address this issue, as well as to provide suf¤cient work to keep a crew of men continuously employed (Means 1998a, 2000b, 2002b). Butler (1937, 1939:9, 71– 73) developed the ¤rst formal de¤nition of the Monongahela tradition as a prehistoric group based largely on SCRE-excavated village sites (Means 1998a:39– 44, 2002b, 2003). Hart (1993:88) pointed out that the SCRE investigations are important to a continuing understanding of the Monongahela tradition, because they exposed more habitation area of more village sites than has been done since. For this reason alone, data on Monongahela tradition village sites at the center of this work’s analyses and interpretations were largely derived from SCRE investigations. The usefulness of SCRE-investigated village sites was further enhanced by this author’s successful attempt to obtain AMS assays from several village components excavated in the 1930s, as detailed later in this chapter (see also Means 2005a, 2005b, 2005c, 2006a). Chapter 6 includes an assessment of the quality of the decades-old SCRE data.

Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition / 19 Overall Monongahela Tradition Chronological Framework Drawing on Mayer-Oakes’s (1955) pottery seriation and initial chronology building efforts (assessed in Means 2003), Johnson et al. (1989:24) divided the Monongahela tradition developmental sequence into a tripartite scheme: Early (a.d. 1050/1100 to a.d. 1250), Middle (a.d. 1250 to a.d. 1580/1590), and Late or Protohistoric (a.d. 1580/1590 to a.d. 1630). Some researchers (Raber et al. 1989) have questioned the validity of this tripartite chronological scheme and its further subdivision into phases that usually have a geographic dimension. Most Monongahela tradition periods and phases are constructed based on trait lists, particularly those traits related to ceramic attributes. Raber et al. (1989:39) argued that a focus on trait lists obscures substantial regional and local diversity. Thus, where possible in this work, radiocarbon assays and not culturehistoric temporal constructs are used to assign ages to individual village components. Site Structure and Community Patterns An understanding of Monongahela tradition village sites is central to this work, so this section considers how these sites have been described by other researchers. Researchers from outside the Upper Ohio Valley can see that the basic organization and constituent elements of Monongahela tradition village sites are similar to many settlements located throughout the Eastern Woodlands (Bushnell 1919). These sites were generally circular or oval, bounded by small posts, and contained an open central plaza until the end of the Monongahela tradition sequence (Johnson et al. 1989:9–12). A typical Monongahela tradition community pattern is usually said to consist of an occupation zone commonly encircled by a palisade and containing activity areas, dwellings, pits, graves, and other features surrounding an open plaza (George 1974:2; Johnson et al. 1989:9). Residential dwellings may have been wigwam-style, dome-shaped structures documented ethnohistorically throughout the Eastern Woodland (Nabokov and Easton 1989), although not all scholars agree with this conclusion (Figure 5) (Means 2006b). Monongahela tradition sites are also noted for post-enclosed features that were either freestanding or attached to dwellings and were presumably used for storage. These features have long been considered unique to the Monongahela tradition (Cresson 1942:66) and are seen by some as an important cultural indicator (George 1974:2,19; Hart 1995:42; Herbstritt 1981:14). They probably represented structures that extended well above the ground surface (Hart 1995:42). If these post-enclosed features were storage facilities, they would have served as a buffering mechanism for coping with both predictable and unpredictable short- and long-term spatial and temporal variation in resource avail-

20 / Chapter 2

5. Artist’s reconstruction of a Monongahela village site, shown in cross-section (courtesy of Laura J. Galke).

ability (Hart 1995:42). Hart (1995:50) interpreted most attached post-enclosed features as representing greater domestic control over surplus than was possible with freestanding post-enclosed features. By the Late Monongahela period, the petal-shaped structure present at a few Monongahela tradition village sites may have indicated increased communal control over some surplus (Hart 1995:51). The open plaza area of a village was generally devoid of substantial cultural remains during most of the Monongahela tradition sequence (Johnson et al. 1989). It was probably swept clean on a regular basis (Johnson 1981). However, evidence for cultural activities within the open plaza area has been recovered at some village sites. For example, George (1974:5) found evidence for frequent and intensive ¤ring within the central plaza of the Ryan site, especially at the geographic center of the village. He did not provide an explanation for this pattern, although a ceremonial function is likely, given ethnographic data discussed in Chapter 4. Other sites, including some in the Allegheny Mountains region, had evidence for centrally located ¤res or posts (Means 2001). Settlements in the Allegheny Mountains Region Monongahela tradition habitation sites are known along all major drainages in the Allegheny Mountains region, including the Casselman, Youghiogheny, and Potomac rivers. In addition, Late Prehistoric nonvillage components have been documented at a wide variety of topographic settings along these same drainages. These components include hamlets, limited activity procurement camps, rockshelters, and at least one chert quarry site (Means 1998b, 1998c, 2000d, 2002c, 2006a; Means et al. 1998; Wall 1981).

Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition / 21 Major Trends Evident in Monongahela Tradition Subsistence-Settlement Data New excavations and reviews of previously excavated village and other sites enable an ongoing, dynamic reinterpretation of the Monongahela tradition developmental sequence (Hart 1993; Hart et al. 2005; Johnson 2001; Means 2006a; Nass and Hart 2000; Richardson et al. 2002). The introduction of maize into the native horticultural system is often viewed as the main catalyst for the coalescing of scattered Late Woodland hamlets (a.d. 500 to 900) into Late Prehistoric village sites (Fuller 1980, 1981a, 1981b; Wymer 1993). In light of new data and recent theoretical developments (Hart 2001; Hart et al. 2003), it is likely that one should more properly consider the adoption of intensive maize agriculture as a potential catalyst for the appearance of village settlements, rather than the mere introduction of maize into existing subsistence economies. The development of village sites was not simply the restructuring of dispersed hamlets into composite, palisaded village sites (Hart 1993). Hamlet sites continued to exist throughout the Late Prehistoric period in the lower Upper Ohio Valley and played an integral role in local and regional subsistence-settlement systems (Hart 1993; Means 2002c). Major changes in settlement distribution supposedly occurred around a.d. 1250, with a brief climatic decline said by some to have led Monongahela tradition peoples to abandon the more environmentally marginal Allegheny Mountains region and parts of Ohio and West Virginia. As a result, Monongahela tradition settlements were once thought to have consolidated into the “Monongahela heartland” along the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers (Johnson 2001). The argument that the Monongahela tradition territory as a whole was environmentally marginal during this time period was based on the short growing season for maize within this area. The Allegheny Mountains region was considered by Johnson et al. (1989) to have been particularly adversely impacted by this climatic decline. This region contains the most rugged and steep topography in Pennsylvania and, consequently, an even shorter growing season than other Monongahela tradition areas. Johnson et al. (1989) considered maize agriculture to have been a fairly risky proposition in this region even prior to the apparent climatic decline. Challenges to the presumed impact of the a.d. 1250 climatic decline include recent work at the Saddle site in West Virginia. A component dating to around a.d. 1400 indicated that nucleated village sites persisted in the area longer than had been thought (Church 1995:70). Hart’s (1993) divided-risk model suggests that, even if a severe climatic decline did occur around a.d. 1250, the link between village sites and hamlets and a continued reliance on nonmaize resources could have ameliorated uneven resource distributions. The interpretation that

22 / Chapter 2 the Allegheny Mountains region was abandoned was based in part on the weak chronological framework that once existed for this area. New AMS dates obtained by the author—and considered below—unequivocally demonstrate that this abandonment scenario is untenable (Means 2005a, 2006a). Again following from Johnson et al. (1989), the Late Monongahela period was said to have witnessed a further reduction in the geographic distribution of Monongahela tradition village sites from the earlier a.d. 1250 contraction. This second reduction supposedly resulted primarily from con®ict with northern Iroquoian neighbors over the fur trade. Monongahela tradition peoples disappeared as a recognizable cultural entity shortly after a.d. 1635, within ¤ve years or less of the onset of the English fur trade in the region (Johnson et al. 1989:28–30). The Seneca may have dispersed Monongahela tradition populations (Johnson 2001). Recent research by Richardson et al. (2002:86–90) suggested that drought conditions may have characterized the Late Monongahela sequence. Along with increased aggregation of populations into larger village sites and further intensi¤cation of agricultural production, drought conditions made Monongahela tradition populations particularly susceptible to hostile incursions by Iroquoian groups. Generally, Richardson et al. (2002:90) concluded that climatic factors at several critical junctures, particularly climate deterioration, were responsible for changes in the distribution of settlements throughout the region assigned to the Monongahela tradition. They implied a correlation between climatic shifts and increases in settlement size, the degree of forti¤cation for village sites, and the intensi¤cation of maize agriculture. Nass and Hart (2000:124) acknowledged the role of environmental factors but stressed heterogeneity, not homogeneity, in subsistence-settlement data. They further emphasized that patterning in these data resulted from adaptive responses to both local and regional environmental and social variables. Nass and Hart (2000) concluded that climatic deterioration models and allied warfare models do not account for spatial and temporal variation within and between regions. These models generally fail to consider social and technological buffering mechanisms, such as storage facilities, community-wide distribution of resources, and village sites linked to hamlet and camp sites distributed in diverse ecological settings (Nass and Hart 2000:127; see also Hart 1993, 1995, and Hart et al. 2005). Relationship to Historically Known Native Groups Despite considerable speculation, no historically known tribal groups have been convincingly associated with the Monongahela tradition (George 1980, 1994; Johnson 2001; Johnson et al. 1989:31). This situation arises in part because little research has been conducted on Contact period sites in western Pennsyl-

Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition / 23 vania or on sites associated with Native American groups displaced from regions farther east during the Historic period (Cowin 1985:193; but see Johnson 2001). Even if archaeologists succeed in assigning all or part of the Monongahela tradition to a speci¤c linguistic or tribal group known dimly from vague historical documents, simply possessing the historic identity of the Monongahela tradition would tell us little about how they organized themselves socially, politically, or economically earlier. To accomplish this feat, archaeologists must turn to the material remnants of the Monongahela tradition, notably their village sites. They need to consider the types of social organizations that likely were present in village sites and more precisely to de¤ne exactly what is meant by the word “village”—a term that is bandied about cavalierly by researchers. REVISING THE CHRONOLOGY OF THE ALLEGHENY MOUNTAINS REGION Until recently, one signi¤cant drawback to analyzing Allegheny Mountains region sites has been that chronological data were generally weak, suspect, or nonexistent for most of these sites. In particular, the most serious limitation to incorporating into this work the village sites investigated by the SCRE was the poor understanding of their temporal positions within local or regional chronologies. All were excavated long before the development of radiocarbon dating and its regular application to archaeological research. Therefore, until recently, none of the SCRE-investigated village sites had associated radiocarbon dates. Fortunately, technological advancements now enable AMS dating of organic remains and ceramics with organic residues (Carr and Haas 1996; Lovis 1990). Appropriate datable archaeological remains from SCRE sites were documented in museum collections (Means 1999a). An NSF project designed to obtain AMS dates from SCRE-investigated sites was quite successful, as detailed below (see also Means 2005a, 2005b, 2005c). Prior to these recently obtained AMS dates, only three de¤nite village sites had associated radiocarbon dates: Quemahoning/Alwine, Gnagey 3, and Petenbrink 1 (George 1983a, 1983b; Means 2002c). Except for two dates obtained by Hart and Scarry (1999), Gnagey 3’s extant suite of dates (George 1983a) is considered questionable on a number of grounds, including problematic contexts and suspected errors with a laboratory that produced the dates (Means 2005a). The assays from Quemahoning/Alwine and Petenbrink 1 exhibited few obvious problems. Discounting those that were problematic, extant radiocarbon assays from Quemahoning/Alwine, Gnagey 3, and Petenbrink 1 were insuf¤cient for examining directional variation—if any—in village community organization in the Allegheny Mountains region. A solution to strengthening the weak

24 / Chapter 2 regional chronological framework was clear at the onset of this study: radiocarbon dating of SCRE-excavated village components using organic remains present in museum collections. A review of curated archaeological collections associated with the SCRE uncovered the presence of potentially datable organic remains from these sites (Means 1999b). Collections at The State Museum of Pennsylvania (TSMP) and the Carnegie Museum of Natural History (CMNH) had curated organic remains suitable for radiocarbon dating from several Allegheny Mountains region sites. Organic remains selected for dating from these repositories included small amounts of carbonized plant material (such as wood charcoal, charred maize cobs and kernels, and charred beans); organic food residue on the interior surfaces of ceramic vessel fragments; unworked shell objects in the form of crushed shell used as temper for ceramic vessels; and a worked animal bone awl. A number of factors in®uenced the amount and type of curated organic remains selected and submitted for AMS dating. Several village sites consisted of two or more discrete, and sometimes overlapping, components. Because this analysis considered Monongahela tradition villages from a developmental perspective, efforts were expended to date each discrete village component. Samples were submitted from features that were linked as closely as possible through a study of intrasite patterning to a speci¤c component (Shott 1992: 206). Features that fell into an area of overlap between two components were not selected as sample sources to avoid confusion. It was intended to submit a minimum of three samples for each discrete component to ensure that the dates obtained were not anomalous (Thomas 1986:244–250). The SCRE uncovered 16 or 17 village components at the 12 village sites they investigated (Table 1). Prior to submission of the NSF proposal, it was determined that four sites—representing six components—did not have preserved organic remains at TSMP or CMNH, although some organic remains could be preserved in undocumented private collections. Because ideally three samples were to be submitted for each village component, a total of 33 samples were planned to be submitted for AMS dating of the 10 or 11 SCREinvestigated village components from eight sites then thought to have curated organic remains. If some sites were determined not to have suf¤cient suitable materials for three samples, the remaining samples were to be redistributed among the other sites to increase their total sample number. Subsequent detailed examination of the artifact collections at TSMP and CMNH determined that nine or ten components from seven SCRE-investigated village sites had material clearly suitable for AMS dating. Of these, four sites had insuf¤cient curated organic remains for the proposed number of AMS samples; their proposed samples were redistributed to the remaining three sites. In case any of these 37 samples from the 12 or 13 Allegheny Mountains region components

Review of the Late Prehistoric Monongahela Tradition / 25

proved problematic, an additional seven samples were budgeted for AMS dating to ensure that suf¤cient dates were obtained. Submission of an additional four samples for AMS dating from the Gnagey 3 village site was planned as well. Radiocarbon assays obtained from the site in the 1970s are problematic, as discussed earlier. The two assays recently obtained from Gnagey 3 (Hart and Scarry 1999) were insuf¤cient to verify with certainty the chronological placement of the two components at this village site.

26 / Chapter 2 A basic accomplishment of the AMS dating project was that, for the ¤rst time, nine previously undated village components from seven New Deal excavated village sites were directly dated (Table 2). In addition, the chronological placement of Gnagey 3’s two components was clari¤ed. The more recently excavated village components from Gnagey 3 were shown to have been occupied around the middle of the fourteenth century a.d. rather than in the tenth and twelfth centuries a.d. as proposed by George (1983a). The larger village component at Gnagey 3 was built shortly after the earlier and smaller village component there (Means 2001, 2003). The AMS dating project accomplished more than ascertaining the ages of nine previously undated village components excavated during the New Deal and clarifying the ages of two more recently excavated components from a single site. This dating project successfully altered extant perceptions of the occupational history of the Allegheny Mountains region. These newly dated components and a reconsideration of other radiocarbon assays enabled three longstanding assumptions about the chronology of the region to be successfully challenged. First, contrary to Mayer-Oakes’s (1955) ceramic typology, most village sites did not fall into the ¤rst part of the overall Monongahela tradition chronological framework. Clearly, sites are not necessarily early in the temporal sequence if their ceramic assemblages are dominated by limestone-tempered rather than shell-tempered pottery. Thus, the basic assumption of Mayer-Oakes’s ceramic typology that limestone-tempered ceramics were replaced by shell-tempered wares throughout Monongahela tradition territories at the end of the Early Monongahela period ca. a.d. 1250 is no longer tenable. Second, the revised dating of Gnagey 3 showed that the ¤rst de¤nite village settlements did not become archaeologically visible much earlier in the Allegheny Mountains region—ca. a.d. 900—than was seen in other parts of the Northeast. Rather, the ¤rst de¤nite village settlement appeared at least two centuries later. Petenbrink 1’s ¤rst component dated to ca. a.d. 1100. Based on current data, it appears that American Indians in the region adopted a village lifestyle two centuries more recently than was originally proposed by George (1983a). Of course, it is conceivable that future archaeological investigations could uncover traces of earlier village sites. Third, it is now evident that the Allegheny Mountains region was not abandoned after a.d. 1250 owing to some perceived climatic shift. In fact, most of the dated village sites were inhabited during the ¤rst two centuries following a.d. 1250. Further, the latest known village in the region—the larger occupation at Peck 2—was inhabited approximately three centuries after the supposed period of abandonment at ca. a.d. 1530. The principal purpose of the AMS dating project was not simply to chal-

Continued on the next page

Table 2. Continued

30 / Chapter 2 lenge existing assumptions about the extant Monongahela tradition chronological framework. Nor was strengthening the local chronological framework the project’s main intent. Rather, the primary goal of the AMS dating project was to determine when individual village components were occupied so that they could potentially be ordered in a developmental sequence. How well this was accomplished for all the newly dated or redated Allegheny Mountains region villages is addressed later in this work. By integrating models of village spatial layouts with a stronger chronological framework created through AMS dating of curated collections, a broader understanding emerges of cultural developments in the region throughout the Late Prehistoric period. Chronological ordering of village components enables them to be examined within a local developmental sequence, facilitating both the modeling of social organization for individual components and the consideration of—or lack of—diachronic changes in village social organization.

3 Villages, Communities, and Social Organizations

Patterning in the distribution of archaeological remains at Monongahela tradition village sites is expected to reveal underlying social, behavioral, or ideological geometric models and re®ect aspects of village social organizations in®uenced by these models. The Monongahela tradition concept is directly associated with the initial appearance, persistence, and character of village sites in the Upper Ohio Valley during the Late Prehistoric period. Village sites are also central to de¤ning and explaining other contemporaneous “cultures” in the Northeast. Yet despite the central nature of the “village” concept, this concept is often ill-de¤ned and is commonly con®ated and treated interchangeably with the concept of the “community” (Clinton 1996; Stirling 1998). This chapter begins by de¤ning the concepts of “village” and “community” and how they are employed in this study. The remainder of the chapter reviews the kinds of social groups that might have been present at Monongahela tradition village sites, when and how social groups might have been formed, and the nature of interaction between these groups. Traditionally, the kinds of social groups that anthropologists have delineated at village sites include dependent and independent households, lineages, clans, dual organizations along the lines of moieties, and sodalities. In recent years, some anthropologists have expressed dissatisfaction with traditional kinship terminology and developed a new kind of social group concept—based on writings by Lévi-Strauss—that is examined near the close of this chapter. A foundation is provided here for the next chapter’s consideration of how village social organizations might have been re®ected in the spatial layouts of village sites. DEFINING VILLAGES AND COMMUNITIES There are a number of extant and sometimes contradictory de¤nitions of the village and the community. Both are analytical constructs that vary in scope

32 / Chapter 3 and meaning, depending on what questions researchers ask and on the nature of data at hand. Murdock’s (1949:79) de¤nition of a community as “the maximal group of persons who normally reside together in face-to-face association” was once widely cited by archaeologists (Chang 1958:303; Wills and Leonard 1994:xv). This de¤nition applies principally to residential groups that occupy aggregated or nucleated settlements. Communities that practice seasonal mobility usually break into smaller groups based on social divisions existing within the nucleated settlement (Chang 1962:35). Some South American groups maintain a form of dual residence that alternates seasonally; that is, they own dwellings both in a nucleated village and at outlying garden sites (Rivière 1995:189–190). There are also communities that never aggregate into a single large settlement. Their members are instead scattered among a number of smaller settlements that nonetheless have a sense of group identity and common interests (Chang 1962:29; G. Rice 1987:15). Patterned interactions among households create a sense of community (Peterson and Drennan 2005:5) with shared histories, languages, customs and beliefs (see also Hegmon 2002). Fuller (1981a, 1981b) distinguished between two types of communities: the nucleated community, in which all of its members live in a single settlement, and the dispersed community, in which multiple settlements comprise a single community. Whether households are part of dispersed or aggregated settlements—or somewhere on a continuum in between—their degree of spatial distance does not necessarily correlate directly to social distance (Adler 2002:29). Beardsley et al.’s de¤nition of the community is suf¤ciently broad to encompass the nuances discussed here. They de¤ned the community “as the largest grouping of persons in any particular culture whose normal activities bind them together into a self-conscious corporate unit, which is economically self-suf¤cient and politically independent” (Beardsley et al. 1955:133). Using such a de¤nition shifts the focus of community studies from a place or site to a human group (Chang 1962:33; Nelson 1994:1). Villages represent a physical manifestation of a community and are marked by co-residence that generates the type of “face-to-face” interaction Murdock (1949) saw as central to the de¤nition of the community (Hegmon 2002:266– 267). This regular face-to-face interaction between community members— with the concomitant need to develop formal methods of minimizing stress and maximizing interaction—is thought by some to have played an important role in the evolution of human societies, including the transition from band to tribal level organizations (Milner 1991:35). However, the reasons the shift from one settlement type to another—such as from dispersed hamlets to nucleated villages—occurred in one place or another are probably too varied to be accounted for by a single explanation (Flannery 2002:417).

Villages, Communities, and Social Organizations / 33 From a traditional perspective, a village might be de¤ned as a discrete location on the landscape occupied by a local group forming a nucleated community (Stirling 1998:29). However, the view that a village correlates directly with a community has a number of potential shortcomings. Although the village might be recognized as centrally important for maintaining the community and contributing to its identity (Butt 1977:9; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:198– 217), not all community members necessarily reside within the village at any given time. In groups practicing a seasonal round, one would expect most members of the community to disperse part of the year to exploit seasonally available resources. However, some members might remain in the village due to in¤rmity, age, choice, or as guards (Bushnell 1922:103; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:99). During times of the year when such a village is principally occupied, some community members may not normally live within the village. Instead, they may preferentially reside in smaller sites near garden plots or agricultural ¤elds because they do not like noise or crowds or are avoiding real or potential con®icts with other villagers. Even in this situation, they might construct and maintain a residence within the village that can be occupied for special occasions or ceremonies (Butt 1977:6; Harp 1994). Thus, one can equate a village with a community only if the former is viewed in a very dynamic sense. Given this, the layout of a village re®ects the maximum ideal congregation of a community’s members, and one that might only occasionally be realized. For smallscale social groups such as those inhabiting Late Prehistoric southwestern Pennsylvania, most members of a community would have likely inhabited a village consisting of several contiguous and contemporary dwellings arranged according to a preconceived plan (Chang 1958:303–305, 1962:33). Chang’s (1958:303) cross-cultural study of New World pre-urban agricultural villages indicated that multidwelling villages also frequently have a “headman’s” lodge and a communal locality or structure. Such a locality or structure indicates the need for the kinds of socially integrative institutions above the individual household level that one would expect in a local group forming a self-conscious community. For a nucleated village community, the communal locality or structure is usually integrated directly into the village’s layout. Either can act as a major factor in®uencing the planning and arrangement of a village, particularly one that has a ring shape. Because this study draws on a considerable amount of ethnographic and ethnohistoric data, it seems prudent to make one further distinction for the sake of clarity and to avoid potential confusion. A “village settlement” was occupied by a living group at the time it was documented. Observations made from the study of village settlements can be used to generate a model or models of a community system and explain patterning within an archaeological site

34 / Chapter 3 (G. Rice 1987). “Village site” refers to the material remains of a village settlement that are preserved in the archaeological record, that are affected by a variety of natural and cultural formation processes (Schiffer 1987), and that can be analyzed in terms of a community pattern formed by the distribution of material remains with respect to each other. VILLAGE SOCIAL ORGANIZATIONS A community’s members belong to a variety of social organizations that exist at varying scales below the level of the entire community. Some social organizations present within a village community may exhibit ties to other communities, such as when members of a lineage or other similar social group ¤nd marriage partners outside their natal community. This section provides a brief overview of village social organizations, ranging from individual households to larger social groups, including lineages, clans, moieties, and sodalities. Other topics addressed in this section include aspects of interaction in nucleated village communities, supra-household decision making, and structural poses. The section ends with a discussion of a comparatively new type of social group derived from writings by Lévi-Strauss. Houses and Households For both dispersed and nucleated communities, an understanding of the household is important. Households embody and underlie the organization of a society at its most basic level. Ashmore and Wilk (1988:6) de¤ned the household as a social unit that shares activities, including production, pooling of resources, reproduction, and co-residence. The household is at the level or scale at which social groups articulate directly with the physical environment (Wilk and Rathje 1982:618). Each household determines how its labor will be allocated to meet its needs (Nass and Hart 2000). Interaction in Nucleated Village Communities The interaction of multiple households in a nucleated village community creates new opportunities and challenges that are not evident in dispersed communities. Social structures that integrate and organize small and scattered populations may be inadequate for larger and more concentrated populations (Eggan 1955:495). Following from Carneiro (1967:239) and Gumerman (1994:9), a viable village community could only have been maintained as population size and density grew if social organizations were modi¤ed or developed to accommodate increased interaction by larger numbers of people. Otherwise, cooperation and decision making would have been compromised. People can develop strategies that overcome the constraints of group size by directing

Villages, Communities, and Social Organizations / 35 themselves toward speci¤c types of interactions, such as food sharing, labor exchanges, and conversational exchanges of adaptive information (Cox et al. 1999:375–376). Supra-Household Decision Making Increases in group size can affect the type and number of decision-making levels within a community. Johnson’s (1978, 1982) analyses of information theory and scalar stress suggest that a village settlement consisting of more than about six households would need to form a level of supra-household decision making to remain stable. That is, a decision-making level above individual households but below that of the entire village community would develop (see Lightfoot and Feinman 1982 for southwestern cases). The heads of households would be likely candidates for supra-household decision-making roles, perhaps organized as a council or less formal social network. They already would have been serving a similar role within their own households. Structural Poses Social relations within a village community have considerable complexity and have a temporal—as well as spatial—scale. According to Gearing (1958:1148), a village community does not consist of a single set of roles and organizational groups but rather several sets that appear and disappear depending on the tasks at hand. He referred to these sets of roles and groups as structural poses and noted that the social structure of a given society is the sum of several structural poses assumed throughout a given year (Gearing 1958:1149). Interaction within a village community occurs at many levels throughout its existence and involves members of the community to varying degrees and in varying social groups. Not all structural poses would necessarily leave recognizable patterning in the archaeological record. Gearing’s (1958) notion of structural poses has two major implications for this study. First, some of the shorter-lived or infrequent structural poses may not have had a signi¤cant physical manifestation in the archaeological record. Structural poses that are evoked most frequently or for longer durations are expected to have had a greater effect on, and needed greater reinforcement from, the arrangement of built environments and of social space. The placement of dwellings re®ects more permanent manifestations of structural poses on the social group level, whereas features re®ect activities that may occur either regularly or infrequently. In addition, the placement of dwellings can also structure interactions within villages, including the nature and locations of activities with respect to these structures. Second, village sites usually represent not just the accumulation of structural poses throughout a year but over several years. Different and spatially overlapping structural poses may be pres-

36 / Chapter 3 ent in the archaeological traces of a village settlement. Some structural poses occurred almost daily, such as in the arrangement and distribution of certain activities, whereas others occurred infrequently and represent unplanned events, such as funerals. Kinship, Descent, and Other Forms of Social Groups Traditional studies of village-level societies view kinship and descent as dominant factors in forming larger groups (Keesing 1975:8). According to this perspective, corporate descent groups with economic, political, ritual and other functions ¤rst appeared in village-level societies as a way to deal with organizational challenges created when people began living in larger, more stable groups (Keesing 1975:16). Descent groups can take the form of lineages, where descent is traced unilineally from a known ancestor, or clans, where descent is traced unilineally from a common but unknown ancestor who may have supernatural overtones (Keesing 1975:41). When a village community is partly or completely endogamous, descent groups, such as lineages or clans, can be strongly corporate and occupy discrete areas within the settlement (Keesing 1975:41). People in traditional societies most often choose where they live within a settlement based on varying types of social relationships (Agorsah 1988:234–236). How these various social groups might localize within a ring-shaped village settlement is explored further in Chapter 4. A moiety represents the division of a society into two social categories or groups, sometimes in®uencing village layout (Keesing 1975:150; Lowie 1950: 240–241). The term moiety is and has been widely used to refer to many, if not all, forms of dual organization (Fox 1967:182; James 1949; Lowie 1950:240; Parkin 1997:87). To avoid potential confusion, this study will restrict the term moiety—whenever it can clearly be determined from the literature—to dual organizations that represent paired exogamous, intermarrying descent groups. A village community can have a number of societies, referred to as sodalities, that serve a variety of functions, except marriage regulation. At a most basic level, sodalities refer to voluntary associations that form to meet certain needs and whose membership is nonhereditary, crosscutting clans, lineages, and dual organizations, including moieties (Callender 1962:31; Hill 1970:15; Lowie 1950:294). Depending on their nature, sodalities can be important integrative institutions (Hill 1970:15) that reinforce bonds between kin groups and overcome factionalism that could destroy or damage those bonds (see Carlson 1998:75; Gross 1979:332). Because of their nature, sodalities are ®exible and highly adaptive to changing social, political, and environmental circumstances (Carlson 1998:75–77). Many societies have one or more men’s sodalities that

Villages, Communities, and Social Organizations / 37 either include all men or divide men according to age sets and marital status (Lowie 1950:295–303). Men’s sodalities may congregate in special structures, or men’s houses (Lowie 1950:303), although most sodalities generally do not localize or localize only for brief periods (Hill 1970:15). Even if sodalities localize only for brief periods, they may still do so in a specialized structure (Hill 1970:43). Kinship Studies in Crisis? Among some scholars, there has been a shift away from conventional kinship analyses of social groups as presented in the preceding section. One major issue with traditional kinship studies is that they tend to highlight certain features of a social group and ignore variation that does not ¤t established categories (Chance 2000:500). Variation in the nature of social groups occurs because people do not follow abstract rules when these rules contradict basic necessities. In some cases, it is simpler to reinterpret, change, or ignore abstract rules than to change basic material conditions, such as residence or subsistence economies (Sandstrom 2000:58). Thus, there is a perception by some scholars that the standard approach to kinship is in crisis (Sandstrom 2000:55). Maison and Sociétiés à Maison Some anthropologists are turning toward Lévi-Strauss’s dual concepts of Maison and Sociétiés à Maison, i.e., “Houses” and “societies of Houses” (Carsten and Hugh-Jones 1995:2; Chance 2000:485; Gillespie 2000a:6). In his initial writings on the subject, Lévi-Strauss (1982:174) described the House as “a corporate body holding an estate made up of both material and immaterial wealth, which perpetuates itself through the transmission of its name, its goods, and its titles down a real or imaginary line, considered legitimate as long as this continuity can express itself in the language of kinship or of af¤nity and, most often, of both.” The strength of the House concept is that it transcends, overcomes, and reunites opposing principles such as alliance, descent, endogamy, and exogamy that would appear incompatible if traditional kinship terminology and concepts were applied (Carsten 1995:105; Carsten and Hugh-Jones 1995:7–8). Thus, in societies of Houses, the estate is primary and kinship is just one means used to preserve and maintain it so that it can be transmitted through succeeding generations (Chance 2000:485–486; Gillespie 2000b:50, 2000c:467; Sandstrom 2000:56). The strongest aspect of the House concept is its emphasis on the important role that material culture—especially physical dwellings—plays in organizing and generating social groups. People in many societies use their dwellings—usually the largest object they create—as a primary reference for understanding their world (Carsten and Hugh-Jones 1995:2;

38 / Chapter 3 Sandstrom 2000:67). A key function of dwellings is to anchor people in space and to link them in time (Gillespie 2000a:3, 2000d:136). Gillespie (2000a, 2000d) explicitly discussed why the notion of Houses has become attractive to some archaeologists. In particular, the House concept emphasizes that the dwelling is a localizing element within the physical landscape and that it is part of a multidimensional social network (Gillespie 2000a:21). According to Gillespie (2000a:2, 2000d:48), archaeologists can use the House concept to study past social groups without encountering some of the limitations of traditional kinship studies. However, tribal or more complex social groups can certainly have households that have a physical presence without meeting some of the central criteria for a House society. For example, whether all members of a household occupy a single dwelling or cluster of adjacent dwellings may depend on immediate social and economic needs, rather than a concern with maintaining property from one generation to another (Wilk 1991). A House society can be maintained by slash-and-burn agriculturalists who move their settlements periodically. Each House in a Mbengokre ring-shaped village settlement of Central Brazil has a ¤xed position within the circle of dwellings, based on the position of Houses in an ideal village. No one village settlement has representatives of all Houses, which are unevenly distributed among nine village settlements. Houses can consist of more than one dwelling. In 1987, in the village of Kapòto, 31 dwellings represented 14 Houses (Lea 1995: 207–208). One could argue that having and maintaining a House in a set location or place within the village settlement was a strategy designed to maintain continuity in village social organizations as settlements move from location to location. Many functions of Houses occur within the physical and symbolic framework provided by dwellings (Gillespie 2000b:24, 2000d:137). The physical dwelling may acquire a personality or spiritual presence—become “fetishized.” Rituals conducted within the dwelling help create a sense of reality and continuity (Sandstrom 2000:56), which aids Houses in maintaining themselves in perpetuity. Burials placed under or around dwellings may indicate evidence of ancestral veneration or represent attempts to enhance the continuity of a House by maintaining links to deceased members (Gillespie 2000a:19). Lévi-Straussian Houses can exist despite the fact that dwellings are enlarged, modi¤ed, and even moved, in a sequence that parallels the developmental cycle of their occupants (Carsten 1995:109). This particular emphasis on the connection between physical dwellings and people’s beliefs and behaviors by analysts of Lévi-Straussian Houses is similar to the approach pioneered by Rapoport and other investigators into the social role of built environments, as addressed in Chapter 4.

Villages, Communities, and Social Organizations / 39 One point should be made about terminology before continuing. To avoid potential confusion between a physical dwelling and a social grouping, this work will henceforth refer where appropriate to Lévi-Straussian “houses,” rather than to the terms Houses, “societies of houses,” or even “house-based societies” that are more common in the literature.

4 Building Models of Village Spatial and Social Organizations

A diverse range of social organizations is potentially re®ected in the patterned distribution of archaeological remains at Monongahela tradition village sites. The initial part of this chapter presents general theoretical considerations supporting the premise that a village’s community organization can be modeled from its material remains. This work draws on approaches developed to examine built environments—represented largely by architectural elements—and the social and behavioral use of space—notably spaces de¤ned by architectural elements. For ring-shaped settlements, underlying cognitive geometric models generate community-wide planning principles that are responsible to at least some degree for the spatial con¤gurations of social groups, as well as the locations of their associated activities, architecture, and social spaces. Thus, social organizations present at a ring-shaped settlement can be inferred from its spatial organization. A cross-cultural survey of settlements from the recent and distant past reveals three broad classes of geometric models that can in®uence the layouts of ringshaped settlements: diametric, concentric, and circumferential models. Diametric models divide settlements in half—possibly organized around a dual social division. Concentric models explicitly recognize that there is radial patterning inherent in the layouts of ring-shaped settlements. This radial patterning is represented at its most basic level in the form of a ring of dwellings around an open central plaza. Circumferential models consider whether radial patterns in a ring-shaped settlement’s layout exhibit internal divisions—perhaps in the form of corporate social groups that occupy different segments of a domestic zone that encircle a central plaza. A new hub-and-spoke model is developed here that combines features of the three broad classes of geometric models. GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS The modeling of community organization from the remains of village sites follows from the general premise that a settlement’s layout re®ects certain as-

Building Models / 41 pects of the social organization of the people who built and lived in it (Chang 1958, 1962:37; Fraser 1968:8; James 1949:109; Lea 1995:208; Lévi-Strauss 1953:533– 534; Mindeleff 1900; Pearson and Richards 1994:3; Rapoport 1980a:289). This is particularly evident when the layout of a settlement shows regularity and patterning that were not created because of, or was created in spite of, topographic and other environmental constraints. It is further argued that a village settlement’s layout does not passively re®ect social organizations but actually plays an active role in their maintenance, perpetuation, and even creation (Fabian 1992:46; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911: 198; Gregor 1977:35). This layout represents a strategy designed to integrate individuals into a social group or community (Gross 1979:329; Hegmon 1989:5) while at the same time minimizing intragroup tensions that might disrupt the community (Gross 1979:337). Ethnographically and ethnohistorically known ring-shaped villages were and are planned according to explicit and conscious geometric models—not infrequently with a cosmological basis—and designed in reference to and intended to foster a village’s social organizations (Fabian 1992:37; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:138; Gregor 1977:35; Gross 1979:337; Guidoni 1975:36; James 1949:98; Lowie 1946a:389; Pearson and Richards 1994:12; Siegel 1996:313–324). A village’s layout at the end of its occupational history can deviate from and obscure native models used in its initial planning. The layout of a village settlement may be modi¤ed in response to changes in group dynamics caused by new intra- or intergroup alliances, internal feuding, hostilities with neighboring villages, illness, accusations of adultery or witchcraft, increases or decreases in population, and so on (Bramberger 1979; Chagnon 1968; Dole 1966: 74; Gross 1979:329–331, 1983:436–437; Maybury-Lewis 1979:312, 1989b:107; Wüst and Barreto 1999:11). These factors can also cause a settlement to ¤ssion into two or more new villages, or, in extreme cases, lead its inhabitants to disperse and disband their community (Bramberger 1979; Gross 1983:435). BUILT ENVIRONMENTS AND THE USE OF SPACE Support for the assertion that a village settlement’s layout plays an active role in maintaining, perpetuating, and even creating social organizations is drawn partly from literature on built environments (Lawrence and Low 1990; Rapoport 1976, 1980a, 1980b 1990a, 1990b, 1997) and the social and behavioral use of space (Kent 1987, 1990a, 1990b; Nass 1995; Oetelaar 1993; Portnoy 1981; Yellen 1977). These two approaches are linked conceptually, as built environments frequently de¤ne spaces within which activities occur. Built environments consist of a settlement’s ¤xed aspects and are represented by generally immobile architectural elements, such as dwellings and nondwelling walls within and surrounding settlements (Lawrence and Low 1990:455; Rapoport 1990a:13).

42 / Chapter 4 Some researchers see the ¤xed elements of built environments as ideal for making inferences on social organization because settlement layouts are an act of design on the part of their inhabitants (Aiello and Thompson 1980:167; Hillier and Hanson 1980:27; Kent 1990a:5; Lawrence and Low 1990:471; Rapoport 1980a:291). Architectural elements create the spaces within which activities occur; this is accomplished through enclosing or bounding space. More permanent elements of built environments—notably architectural features—create settings that are neutral, inhibiting, or facilitating of different behaviors (Rapoport 1976:9). Built environments provide cues on how people are supposed to act, settings for different activities, and places where social relations take place (Rapoport 1990a:10–11). Activities occurring within a dwelling, to which only a single family might have regular access, are conducted with more privacy than activities taking place outside a dwelling (Rapoport 1990a:18). In this sense, a dwelling can act as a behavioral mechanism regulating interaction with the world outside the dwelling (Altman and Gauvain 1981:289). Because built environments can encourage or discourage sociability, a village’s layout should indicate the degree of cooperative or competitive behavior within it (Lawrence and Low 1990:471). Throughout the Eastern Woodlands, including among populations assigned to the Monongahela tradition, most precontact architecture was vernacular in nature. With vernacular architecture, architectural elements, such as dwellings, are built by or under the direction of the individuals who intend to use them (Dore 1996:3; Rapoport 1980a:286). The building materials used to construct a dwelling and the dwelling’s shape in planview re®ect mobility, number of inhabitants, and ability to change a settlement’s con¤guration to meet shifting social, ideological, or behavioral needs (Hitchcock 1987; Kent 1987; McGuire and Schiffer 1983; Whiting and Ayers 1968). Because architecture delineates space for the performance of activities by various social units, McGuire and Schiffer (1983:280) argued that the size of architectural space depends on the activities conducted within that space, their frequency, and the size of the social unit. Changes in dwelling form can occur when there is a shift in the relationship of individual households or other social groups to the larger economic systems of which they are a part (Lawrence and Low 1990:465). When vernacular structures are made from relatively impermanent materials, such as wood, built environments can be readily modi¤ed and restructured if they no longer accommodate the social, behavioral, or ideological requirements of a community (Deetz 1982; Dore 1996:4; Lawrence and Low 1990:460). Kent’s (1987, 1990a, 1990b) ethnoarchaeological studies of the use of space were clearly in®uenced by approaches to understanding built environments. One of her major points is that the partitioning and segmenting of space

Building Models / 43 by built environments re®ect the complexity of a society; increased social complexity results in more segmented and functionally speci¤c space (Kent 1990a: 5). Kent’s emphasis on the importance of the use and distribution of space within a settlement is a complementary approach that strengthens conclusions regarding the in®uence of built environments on behavior and on social interactions. Because constructed physical space is a social product (Saunders 1990:183), it is helpful to think of the use of space not only with respect to the activities taking place in that space but in social terms as well. Societies evolve shared rules on the social use of space and select those that allow them to best manage the sequence and location of activities, minimize con®ict, and ease crowding (Aiello and Thompson 1980; Rapoport 1980a:292). These shared rules depend on the types of interaction that occur in a space: person to person, person to group, ritual to sacred, insider to outsider, and so on (Kent 1990a:2). Because variations in the built environment can relate directly to variations in social relations (Whitelaw 1994:227), it is not just the kinds of space within a settlement that are important but also their location and distribution with respect to each other (Hillier and Hanson 1980:1). THEORY OF PRACTICE Uncritical analyses of built environments, or the social use of space, could result in perceptions that individuals and social groups passively react to and move around and through settlement spaces created and shaped according to normative cultural dictums. In his theory of practice, Bourdieu (1977:89) acknowledged that, particularly in nonliterate societies, individuals and groups base actions and behaviors partly on how they interact with inhabited space, objects in that space, and with each other within that space (Blanton 1994:19). Bourdieu’s theory of practice supports the notion that built environments and social spaces result from varying reactions to earlier con¤gurations of settlement space by individuals or groups and from active and conscious manipulation of this space. People alter how they order and react to their world as circumstances change or as they change circumstances, particularly in patterns of interactions between individuals and groups. Analyses of how organization of built environments and social spaces changed through time can indicate the nature of changes in social behavior and of the actors (individuals or groups) who generated these changes. ARCHAEOLOGY OF THE HOUSEHOLD Most studies seeking to model community dynamics in the Eastern Woodlands begin, and sometimes end, with analyses at the household level. Household

44 / Chapter 4 archaeology studies de¤ne the physical manifestation of the household, or household unit, as consisting of one or more dwellings and associated cultural remains, such as storage pits, burials, hearths, and discrete activity areas (Flannery 1981; Nass 1989:1; Winter 1976). For extended families, the household may be represented by a multidwelling cluster and associated remains or a single enlarged dwelling, such as a longhouse. This study uses the term household in the more inclusive approach followed by Nass (1987, 1989:1) when he examined the archaeological manifestation of dwellings and associated cultural remains at the Fort Ancient SunWatch site. Hayden and Cannon (1982) argued that individual households are dif¤cult to de¤ne archaeologically. Rather, they felt that residential corporate groups should be de¤ned—con¤gurations of dwellings and associated features that represent the archaeological manifestations of cooperative social groups (see also Rocek 1995:10). Variation in the distribution of nonarchitectural features can indicate different economic, social, and reproductive strategies, as well as differential economic success (Hart and Nass 1994). Hayden and Cannon’s formulation of the residential corporate group is broadly similar to the LéviStraussian house concept. Both concepts stress the importance of physical dwellings as an integrative and de¤ning factor for social groups. For groups whose dwellings had circular or oval, i.e., curvilinear, ®oor plans—as was characteristic of Monongahela tradition village sites—clustering of dwellings could have been a solution to the limitations of curvilinear ®oor plan architecture (see McGuire and Schiffer 1983 and Whiting and Ayers 1968 for these limitations). Monongahela tradition dwellings could not have been readily extended to incorporate an increase in the size of social subgroups within a village, such as seen in Iroquoian longhouses (Kapches 1994). Whiting and Ayers (1968:123) noted that a cluster of single-roomed dwellings in a compound may have been functionally equivalent to a multiroomed dwelling. MODELING RING-SHAPED VILLAGE SPATIAL AND SOCIAL ORGANIZATIONS Given the emphasis here on built environments, one might expect an explicitly household archaeology approach to be adopted. Household archaeology approaches are quite diverse, varying from those that focus on behavioral and functional explanations of archaeological data to those that emphasize underlying symbolic and structural patterns (Ashmore and Wilk 1988; Blanton 1994; Bourdieu 1970; Hayden and Cannon 1982; Hodder 1987). Although a household approach’s usefulness is not denied, it can lead archaeologists to overlook patterning that occurs at different levels, particularly at a community-wide scale (Yaeger and Canuto 2000). Efforts aimed at recognizing and de¤ning indi-

Building Models / 45 vidual household units through the distribution of features and artifacts are insuf¤cient to interpret archaeological remains in terms of community organization. Geometric Models and Settlement Layouts Fletcher (1977:64) viewed small-scale communities as most likely to use “a model of the horizontal dimensions of space” to structure the spatial layout of their settlements. Not surprising, given the ring shape of these villages, villagewide planning principles appear as attempts to impose and maintain geometric order on the layout of a settlement as it exists in a horizontal plane. The layout of the village itself is often consciously created and interpreted by its inhabitants as an imago mundi, or image of the universe (Pearson and Richards 1994:12), forming a model of reality that ensures stability for the behavior of the group (Fletcher 1977:64). In Central Brazil, for example, village layouts are viewed as microcosms of the universe (Maybury-Lewis 1989a:11) that at the same time re®ect and reinforce social organizations (James 1949:109; Maybury-Lewis 1989b:98). As shown below, geometric principles guiding the planning of ring-shaped villages can align to aspects of natural, cultural, and cosmological landscapes. An understanding of how geometric principles can affect village planning must be reached before models can be considered that use a ring-shaped village’s spatial organization to infer aspects of its social organizations. Diametric Models. Lévi-Strauss (1953:528, 1963a) considered how villagewide planning principles that are geometric in nature appear in ring-shaped villages. He interpreted similarities in the layout and social structure of ringshaped villages in various parts of the world as “a case of structural similarity between societies that have made related choices from the spectrum of institutional possibilities, whose range is probably not unlimited” (Lévi-Strauss 1963a:133). He was interested in the dual nature of social organizations within ring-shaped villages, which sometimes localized in different parts of a village settlement. Ring-shaped settlements can be socially and conceptually divided into halves, each consisting of a separate moiety (Figure 6). In some cases, each moiety is divided into clans (and even subclans) that paired on either side of the moiety line that divided the settlement in two (Lévi-Strauss 1963a:144, 1963b:128). Lévi-Strauss (1963a:146, 1963b:121) argued that villagers appeared to use conscious (i.e., cognitive) models of diametric dualism to con¤gure the spatial organization of their settlements in relation to paired social organizations. The ethnographic and ethnohistoric literature is replete with cases where diametric models were clearly used as cognitive models to spatially order aspects of a village’s social organizations. Camping circles of numerous Plains

46 / Chapter 4

6. Diametric model of a ringshaped settlement.

Indian groups were divided into two moieties, each localized in separate halves of the village, including the Winnebago (Lévi-Strauss 1963b:133), Omaha (Dorsey 1884:219, 1894:523; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911), Ponca (Dorsey 1897:228; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:41), Osage (Dorsey 1897:214), Kansa (Dorsey 1897: 230; Lowie 1950:239), and Iowa (Dorsey 1894:523). In many cases, this dual division had cosmological overtones. Among the Omaha, one moiety was referred to as the Inshta’çunda, or Sky people, and the other was referred to as the Hon’gashenu, or Earth people (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:135) (Figure 7). Because Omaha cosmology held that the human race and all other living things were created and perpetuated from the union of Sky and Earth, both divisions had to be present at any tribal ceremony (Barnes 1984:50). The tribal circle—and their dwellings as well— were viewed as representing the union of male and female principles through the conjunction of the Earth and Sky moieties (Barnes 1984:51). Although invisible, the line separating these moieties was well known and to some extent

Building Models / 47

7. Diagram of an Omaha hu’thuga (tribal camping circle), adapted from Fletcher and La Flesche (1911:141).

structured activities within the Omaha camping circle (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:198). The orientation of the moiety line—and the village itself—were either with respect to cardinal directions, notably to the east, or re®ected the historical movement of the Omaha. The camping circle’s opening was symbolically perceived to represent a dwelling. This opening was oriented toward the east during tribal ceremonies and toward the direction the tribe was moving at all other times (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:137–138). The Omaha had a term for the form or order of the tribal circle, hu’thuga, that incorporated within it the notion of a dwelling (Barnes 1984:51; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:137). The central role of the camping circle to Omaha social organization and beliefs was consciously recognized by them: “the carrying out of a symbolism in the manner of pitching the tents of the tribe on the wide unbroken prairie . . . indicates how deeply rooted in the minds of the people was the importance of the fundamental ideas represented in the hu’thuga— the two grand divisions and the orientation of the dwelling” (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:138). Another Siouan group, the Osage, oriented their camping circles in the same fashion (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:58). The Bororo and other Central Brazilian groups also use cognitive diametric models to structure many aspects of their social organization (Gregor 1977: 35; Maybury-Lewis 1989a, 1989b), not the least of which are localized exogamous moieties. Bororo village settlements are bisected on an east-west line that divides the villages into two exogamous moieties, one on the north side

48 / Chapter 4 of the village, the other on the south (Fabian 1992:52; Lévi-Strauss 1963a:142; Lowie 1946a:389). This moiety line is oriented simultaneously with respect to the natural world, because it parallels the ®ow of local waterways, and to the cosmos, because it follows the perceived movement of the sun, moon, and stars (Fabian 1992:52). Other Central Brazilian groups such as the Serénte and Apinayé are also divided into northern and southern moieties, whereas a northsouth moiety line divides the Canella into eastern and western moieties (Lowie 1946a:389). The localized moiety division for some Central Brazilian groups generates spatial divisions at scales below that of the entire village settlement. The centrally located men’s houses among the Northern Kayapó (James 1949: 36), Šerénte (James 1949:45–47), and Bororo (Fabian 1992:49) are bisected by the moiety line, so that each half is associated with a separate moiety. Fabian’s (1992) detailed study of Bororo society shows how localized exogamous moieties can foster integration within a ring-shaped community. Bororo males, upon marriage, inhabit “the side of their village opposite to that of their birth for the majority of their lives.” Thus, as they mature, men look to build relationships with the moiety that is spatially and socially “opposite” their birth moiety through an exchange of goods and services. These efforts have a physical manifestation in the paths traveled by men between the moieties, which help link the moieties together, particularly during ceremonial occasions, such as funerals (Fabian 1992:48). The diametric model employed by a settlement’s inhabitants can divide the settlement into two groups having differential status with respect to one another. The dwellings in southern Bantu homesteads of southern Africa are arranged around the circumference of a central space that includes a cattle byre and a men’s assembly place (Figure 8). The homestead opens to the east, and the western or “up” side of the settlement is anchored by the Indlunkulu (great hut) and Ilawu (sleeping hut), both structures associated with the homestead’s headman. The dwellings along the northern or “right” side of the homestead are occupied by families that are of higher status than those along the southern or “left” side of the settlement (Kuper 1993:474–477). This con¤guration for southern Bantu homesteads has existed for millennia and formed the basis for groups of varying complexity, from tribal groups to Shaka’s Zulu state of the nineteenth century (Kuper 1993:476). Concentric Models. There is nothing intrinsic about a diametric model that relates to or accounts for the circular or oval shape of these settlements. LéviStrauss (1963b:135) proposed a second form of dualism—concentric dualism— that explicitly recognizes the radial or concentric structure inherent in ringshaped settlements. Concentric dualism again is used as a conscious and cognitive model by villagers to plan their settlements and typically has an ex-

Building Models / 49

8. Schematic map of a Zulu (a southern Bantu group) homestead, adapted from Kuper (1993:478).

plicit ideological basis (Figure 9). Lévi-Strauss (1963a) applied his notion of concentric dualism to a plan published by Malinowski (1987 [1929]) for the Trobriand Islands, New Guinea, village of Omarakana (Figure 10). The central open area was sacred and associated with males, whereas the peripheral, domestic area—which was separated from the yam storage houses by a circular street—was profane and associated with women. In addition to this opposition between sacred and profane, Lévi-Strauss (1963a:137) argued that other oppositions existed, including that between the raw (the uncooked yam in the yam storehouses) and the cooked (the family dwellings of the outer ring). The importance that a concentric layout can have for maintaining village social organizations was recognized by Spanish missionaries as they proselytized in Central Brazil. The missionaries attempted to disrupt native models of social organizations by having Bororo villagers residing at the mission of Meruri construct linear or “L”-shaped settlements, as opposed to traditional ring-shaped villages (Fabian 1992:37). The resiliency of the ring-shaped village layout in Central Brazil against outside forces has been noted (James 1949:2). Cosmological associations. The overall circular or oval form of ring-shaped villages may relate to cosmological associations, such as with the vault of the heavens (Gregor 1977:48) or with the sun and moon (James 1949:34, 98). As

50 / Chapter 4

9. Concentric model of a ring-shaped settlement.

noted by an informant, “Apinayé villages with their circle of houses, plaza and radial paths represent the Sun” (James 1949:34). In addition, the layout of the village as a whole may be perceived as homologous to the plan of an ideal dwelling, with the entrance to the village compared to the doorway of the community’s “home” (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:137–138). For the Cheyenne, their camping circle was seen both as a gigantic tipi whose door opened to the east (Fraser 1968:21) and as the vault of the sky, where individual tipis represented stars (Guidoni 1975:7). Plains Indian “medicine wheels” show that geometric models were used to in®uence not only camping circle layouts but also nonhabitation sites as well. Medicine wheels consist of a cairn or circle of stones from which radiate linear rows of other stones that are in turn sometimes linked by concentric circles of stones (Eddy 1979:6–9; Hall 1985:181). Some medicine wheels have features aligned with respect to celestial phenomena, at least one of which, the Big Horn medicine wheel, dated between a.d. 1200 and 1700 and was contempo-

Building Models / 51

10. Plan of the village of Omarakana, Trobriand Islands, New Guinea, adapted from Malinowski (1987). Note that the arc of houses from A to B was occupied by the wives of the chief, the arc of houses from A to C was inhabited by the chief ’s maternal kinfolk, and the third section of the village, the arc from B to C, was inhabited by commoners who were not related to the chief as kinsmen or as children (Malinowski 1987:9).

rary with ethnohistorically known Plains Indian camping circles (Williamson 1984:1). Hall (1985:191) disputed claims made throughout much of the archaeoastronomy literature that such alignments were intended largely for calendrical purposes or as records of seasonal events. Rather, he suggested “alignments were often, in fact, intended to have an active function and were not always meant to function only passively as locations for monitoring celestial events” (Hall 1985:184). In fact, he argued further that these alignments may have been linked to ceremonies intended to gather the powers of celestial events at times such as the solstices or equinoxes, or stars at the times of their risings, “when those powers were believed to be most potent” (Hall 1985:189). Cosmological associations apparently formed a common thread that linked the cognitive geometric models used by some Plains Indian groups to plan their

52 / Chapter 4 camping circle layouts and ceremonial structures and at least some medicine wheels. Archaeologists since the 1920s have noted that the Big Horn medicine wheel is similar in design to the plan of Sun Dance lodges constructed within Cheyenne camping circles (Eddy 1979:9; Hall 1985:183; Williamson 1984:209–210). At least one medicine wheel with astronomical alignments dates to ca. 440 b.c. (Williamson 1984:216), showing the antiquity of concentric geometric models used by aboriginal inhabitants of the Plains. However, it should be emphasized that the exact function(s) of medicine wheels are not known. Further, there is not necessarily a de¤nite connection between concentric models used to lay out medicine wheels and Plains Indian camping circles other than that both may have an underlying cosmological basis. The role of plazas. Settlements constructed according to models of concentric dualism usually have not only a circular or oval shape but a centrally located open plaza or its equivalent as well. Clearly, the plaza is central to the spatial organization of ring-shaped villages not only because it has a sacred nature but because the creation of the plaza plays a central role in establishing and planning the layout of settlements (Altman and Gauvain 1981:296). The plaza in its entirety or a speci¤c location within the plaza can act as an axis mundi, or center of the world, linking the village to the cosmos. The attempts by villagers to replicate the axis mundi within their settlement could lead to the use of concentric models as a planning principle for ring-shaped villages (Pearson and Richards 1994:12; Siegel 1996:317). The axis mundi can take the form of a ritual post (Dorsey 1894:458) or a ¤re (Bushnell 1919:34, 58) in the center of the plaza; the latter was recorded at Pomeioc, as discussed in Chapter 1. For most ring-shaped villages, the plaza is the largest space de¤ned by the arrangement of architectural elements. Therefore, it has the greatest potential for simultaneous and sequential activities and social interactions between individuals and social groups within a community. Because they are frequently the single largest space within a ring-shaped village, plazas govern where villages are placed and, at least initially, may in®uence the size of the community surrounding them (Fraser 1968). The size of the plaza can also be in®uenced by the number of dwellings anticipated to be constructed within the occupation zone (Nass, personal communication, 2006). Plazas are places of integration above the household level (Adler 1989; Adler and Wilshusen 1990:135), and their very presence shows, therefore, that bonds above the household level exist within a community (Altman and Gauvain 1981:287). Both Hegmon (1989:5) and Moore (1996) employed a built environments perspective to examine the integrative functions of ritual facilities such as plazas. Acting as facilities for social integration, plazas are a relatively permanent space within a settlement that has the con®icting role of forcing a physical

Building Models / 53 separation between households on opposite sides of the plaza. The larger a plaza is, the greater the distance it creates between dwellings on either side of the plaza. Plazas can function therefore as a buffering mechanism that minimizes con®icts caused by crowding and activity overlap. In this manner, physical distance between dwellings on either side of a plaza maintains social distance as well. However, plaza size in some cases may not correlate directly with the number of dwellings or people within a settlement. If insuf¤cient labor exists at the time a settlement is established, villagers might clear a smaller than ideal area for their settlement, resulting in a smaller than desired plaza. Depending on village size, this might result in two rings of dwellings around a small plaza rather than one ring of dwellings around a larger plaza (Myers 1973:244). Of course, once a village is well established, villagers could clear a larger area, enabling them to increase the size of their plaza and array their dwellings in a single ring around it. Considerable effort might be expended to keep a plaza free of debris and vegetation. For settlements occupied for a long duration, maintenance activities such as sweeping can result in a plaza becoming noticeably lower than the ring of dwellings surrounding it (Myers 1973:244–245). “Fuzzy” dualism. Seeger (1989:193) thought that uncritical interpretation of village settlements through concentric models can create a rigid dichotomy that does not necessarily re®ect ethnographic reality. Borrowing from mathematical set theory, he argued for a form of “fuzzy” dualism where “membership is not necessarily an absolute but may be a question of degree” (Seeger 1989:193). In “fuzzy” dualism, there remains a distinction between center and periphery, but this point of contrast is not rigidly de¤ned. Rather, the distinction between sacred center and profane periphery can move, forming a sliding scale. For example, some Central Brazilian groups have radial zones that decrease in sacredness as one moves away from the center of the village settlement. The Suyá conceive of their village’s layout and its relationship to its natural surroundings in terms of ¤ve distinct named, but overlapping, categories of concentric dualism (Seeger 1989:197). In the village of Mehinaku, social spaces within the village are conceived of and arranged according to explicit cognitive maps that give the village a distinctly radial structure (Gregor 1977:51–54). The men’s house is located in the center and most sacred part of the village settlement, situated in and surrounded by the plaza. Dwellings are oriented so that they face the village’s center and have two doors, one in the front and one in the back. The area around and just inside the front door is referred to as the “mouth of the plaza” and shares some of the plaza’s sacred nature. In contrast, the area around the back door is the “mouth of the trashyard” and is the location where most everyday activities, including socializing and trash disposal,

54 / Chapter 4 take place. Among the Northwestern Gê, the central men’s house is surrounded by a plaza which is separated from the ring of dwellings by a wide boulevard (James 1949:27, 32), and this arrangement may indicate a radial settlement structure akin to that seen at Mehinaku. Social status and radial patterning. Radial patterning can also re®ect variations in social status (Pearson and Richards 1994:19). Gradations in sacredness and status from center to periphery can impose radial patterning on dwelling locations and activities within the village settlement (Fraser 1968:31; LéviStrauss 1963b:136). In the village of Omarakana, social status was considered by Lévi-Strauss to have varied inversely with respect to degree of sacredness and distance to the village’s center. The headman’s hut and his yam house were in the sacred center of the village settlement, as were the cemetery and dancing ground. Lévi-Strauss argued that the zone surrounding the central part of the village was comprised of two concentric circles of buildings. The ¤rst circle contained the houses of the headman’s kin, men’s houses, and ceremonial yam houses. The outermost circle was occupied by married people and was the place where all daily activities took place (Fraser 1968:31; Lévi-Strauss 1963b:136). Lévi-Strauss’s interpretation that there were gradations of social status at Omarakana partly related to variations in sacredness relative to the settlement’s center somewhat contradicts his analysis—presented above—of a binary opposition between the sacred central open area that was associated with men and the profane periphery that was the domain of women. One could argue that there were two levels of radial patterning at Omarakana: one was genderbased and divided men from women, the other was tied to the social status of individual households. However, reexamining Malinowski (1987 [1929]), it is not clear if social status forms the distinct radial pattern at Omarakana that was described by Lévi-Strauss. Most dwellings form a single ring around the yam houses, although their distance does vary relative to the village’s center. This is not to say that geometric models did not create differences in social status for Omarakana, as addressed below. Interrelatedness of concentric and diametric models. Although they can operate on different levels, concentric models work in conjunction with—rather than in opposition to—diametric models as organizing principles for the layout of ring-shaped villages and the arrangement of social groups within them. Fabian (1992:63) argued that diametric and concentric models are inherently related and neither should be applied without reference to the other. MayburyLewis (1989b:111–112) considered the relationship between diametric and concentric dualism as representing a dialectic between alternating or opposing models. This type of relationship is thought to be a common, if not charac-

Building Models / 55 teristic, feature of dual organizations that also are often characterized by asymmetry and imbalance. Yellen’s ring model. Most studies that examine ring-shaped settlements through diametric or concentric models do so in fairly broad terms and are implicitly or explicitly cognitive in nature. Further, with few exceptions, such as Gregor’s (1977) mapping of Mehinaku village in Central Brazil, the maps of ring-shaped villages tend to be simpli¤ed and diagrammatic. Only tacit consideration has been given by most researchers to where varying activities and physical elements, such as dwellings, are located within ring-shaped settlements. This, of course, is an age-old problem that helped inspire the development of ethnoarchaeology. Yellen’s (1977) pioneering study of !Kung bushmen camps in the Kalahari is signi¤cant for a number of reasons, not the least of which was his recognition that their circular camps had a concentric activity structure, centered around an open communal area. Echoing Murdock’s (1949) de¤nition of the community, Yellen (1977:128– 131) attributed this concentric activity structure to the fact that “the circle permits maximum face to face interaction” and thus enhances community solidarity. In his explicitly behavioral “ring model,” Yellen (1977:125) divided !Kung camps into two concentric zones or rings (Figure 11). The inner ring consisted of a circle of huts, each of which had associated hearths surrounded by debris. Most family activities took place around individual family hearths, including cooking and eating (Yellen 1977:90–95). The outer ring comprised the area between the outer edge of the hut circle and the absolute limit of the artifact scatter associated with a camp. This outer ring was public in nature; it was accessible to all camp members for specialized activities that did not require the privacy of individual family activities (Yellen 1977:89). Contrary to what some archaeologists might expect, Yellen (1977:97) determined that activities in both rings were not segregated into subsistence and manufacturing areas. The social context of activities rather than the primary nature of the activities determined the locations where they were performed. Yellen’s ring model oversimpli¤es the concentric structure of !Kung camps somewhat, because the inner ring actually consists of two concentric zones, the hut circle and the central open area, the latter of which had no associated artifacts (Yellen 1977:95). The central open area was communal in function, whereas each hut with its associated hearth and its immediate surroundings were private or family areas (Yellen 1977:89). The !Kung saw their “ideal” camp shape as circular (Yellen 1977:89), suggesting that they built their camps in terms of a conscious concentric model. How close a !Kung camp’s layout approaches the ideal shape depends on the number of huts present (Yellen 1977:86). In fact, for smaller camps consisting of fewer than ¤ve nuclear areas

56 / Chapter 4

11. Yellen’s model of a ring-shaped settlement, adapted from Yellen (1977).

(or “huts”), the huts obviously cannot form a circle and the central communal area is not present. In addition to providing a behavioral model for a circular settlement’s activity structure, Yellen (1977:125) also concluded that the area bounded by !Kung huts (his “inner ring”) correlated most closely to the total number of people in the settlement, rather than the absolute limit of scatter associated with the !Kung camp. However, the absolute limit of scatter was more directly related to the duration of a settlement’s occupation. Myers (1973:244–245) assembled information on several village settlements located throughout the Amazon basin that supports and substantiates Yellen’s ring model. The Canella community of Ponto consists of 31 houses arranged around an open plaza, with each dwelling containing an extended family of approximately 10 members. Community members strive to keep the plaza and the areas around their houses free of debris, disposing of refuse outside the ring of houses. This behavior can result in a ring of cultural debris up to 50 meters wide, which is fairly substantial given that the plaza has a diameter of 300 meters. A Camayura community with a plaza of 100 meters’ diameter and a 10meter-wide domestic zone had an additional ring of refuse 10 to 15 meters wide. In the latter case, if a settlement was occupied for a lengthy period, the plaza became lower due to periodic sweeping and cleaning, while the refuse area became wider and thicker. In both cases, the absolute limit of scatter produced a

Building Models / 57

12. Portnoy’s model of a ring-shaped settlement, adapted from Portnoy (1981).

settlement trace noticeably larger than that contained within the limit of the nuclear area, total: i.e., the domestic zone and plaza. Portnoy’s ring model. Adopting Goffman’s (1959) concepts of “front regions” and “back regions,” Portnoy (1981:220–221) expanded upon and made some important modi¤cations to Yellen’s ring model, dividing it into four largely behavioral concentric zones: (1) a communal front region that is the location of ceremonial activities; (2) a family front region that is the location of social activities; (3) a family back region that is the location of private family activities; and (4) a communal back region that is the location of necessary activities, including trash disposal (Figure 12). In her revised model, “front regions” are areas where people conduct activities with people who are not members of their immediate family, and “back regions” consist of areas where activities are limited to the individual or family (Portnoy 1981:214–215). Her recon¤guration of Yellen’s model more closely corresponds to ethnographic and ethnohistoric data presented earlier, particularly Gregor’s (1977) study of the Central Brazilian village of Mehinaku and Seeger’s (1989) notion of “fuzzy” dualism. Dunnell’s radial model of functional feature classes. While conducting a spatial analysis of the Late Prehistoric Fort Ancient Mayo village site, Dunnell (1983:141) noted that the ring shape of some sites implies a radial structure for

58 / Chapter 4

13. Map of the Late Prehistoric Fort Ancient Mayo Site, Kentucky, adapted from Dunnell (1983:134).

activities. The Mayo site consists of a ring of rectilinear ®oor plan houses de¤ned by postmold patterns; pit features, including hearths, graves, storage pits, and pits of unidenti¤ed function; surface ¤res; and middens (Dunnell 1983: 134). The entire village’s site plan was not exposed (Figure 13) (Dunnell 1983: 152). Visual inspection of the site plan, which Dunnell (1983:136–141) referred to as iconic modeling, suggested that there was radial patterning in the distribution of feature classes. These feature classes were divided into a number of functional categories (Dunnell 1983:118). Dunnell (1983:152) reasoned that “if there is a radial structure to the functional variables, then the mean distance of functional variables from the center of the town ought to differ. If on the other hand, there is no tangible radial structure, then the mean distances ought to all fall in the densest part of the ring and not differ signi¤cantly among themselves.” He created a radial graph of the mean distance of features to the village site’s center and their respective standard deviations (Figure 14). This procedure indicated to Dunnell (1983:153–155) that the nine feature classes could be divided into four concentric bands of activities. He noted that the plaza could be considered a ¤fth activity zone “distinguished by the absence of both structures and artifactual debris of any sort” (Dunnell 1983:159). His approach and conclusions are certainly intriguing and worthy of pursuit.

Building Models / 59

14. Radial model of the distribution of functional feature classes at the Mayo site, adapted from Dunnell (1983:154).

However, perhaps the speci¤c results obtained for the Mayo site should be viewed with caution. Several functional divisions are represented by only two or three features each. If one is not cautious, a radial pattern could be imposed on a site where no such radial patterning exists. Clearer radial patterning in terms of feature function can be seen at the ca. a.d. 1200 Fort Ancient SunWatch site located near Dayton, Ohio (Figure 15). Approximately 60 percent of the site has been excavated, revealing that this village site consisted of concentric rings of dwellings, storage and trash pits, and burials around a central plaza; all were encircled by a stockade fence (Byrnes and DeAloia 2001:2–3; Cook and Sunderhaus 1999; Heilman and Hoefer 1981: 157; Nass 1989:4). The ring of burials is nearest to the outer edge of the plaza and is separated from the dwellings by a ring of storage and trash pits (Heilman and Hoefer 1981:159). Data from this site further support Dunnell’s (1983) assertion that ring-shaped villages can have radial patterning in the distribu-

60 / Chapter 4

15. Map of Late Prehistoric Fort Ancient SunWatch site, located near Dayton, Ohio, adapted from Nass (1989).

tion of functional feature classes. Patterning in the distribution of functional feature classes at the SunWatch site will be considered again brie®y in a discussion of circumferential patterning in the next section. Before continuing, it is important to consider one other facet of the layout of SunWatch village that relates directly to the use of cognitive concentric models. Located in the center of the village’s plaza are traces of a red cedar pole (Heilman and Hoefer 1981:157), which likely functioned as the site’s axis

Building Models / 61 mundi. This central pole was used with posts and other features located in the site’s domestic zone to create deliberate alignments intended “to monitor celestial processes and events,” including the summer solstice, equinoxes, and the scheduling of the planting season, particularly the planting and harvesting times of corn (Heilman and Hoefer 1981:157, 171). These alignments are thought to have played a role in planning the layout of the village, as well as in cyclical celebrations (Heilman and Hoefer 1981:157). That alignments to celestial phenomena were incorporated into and in®uenced the design of the SunWatch site should not be surprising. Earlier, it was noted that concentric models used to plan ring-shaped settlements often have cosmological associations. As Hall (1985) pointed out for Plains Indian medicine wheels, alignments to celestial phenomena were probably not intended simply to predict the phenomena but rather to acknowledge and celebrate their existence. By incorporating celestial alignments into their overall village plan, the inhabitants of SunWatch could have reactivated on select occasions a link to the cosmos through the layouts of their village—if these layouts actually did represent microcosms or re®ections of larger “realities.” This process could have helped ensure that the distribution of social groupings and activities adhered largely to the cosmologically derived geometric models that in®uenced the initial layout of this village site. Circumferential Models. Dunnell made a more signi¤cant contribution to the study of ring-shaped villages when he speculated that these villages can exhibit a third type of spatial structure that proponents of diametric and concentric models have overlooked. He pointed out that distributions of activities and physical elements within ring-shaped villages could display circumferential patterning as well (Dunnell 1983:147–148). In circumferential patterning, the components of a ring-shaped settlement are arranged along the circumference of its circular or oval occupation zone (Figure 16). The occupation zone may be divided into segments of equal or varying size, which Dunnell (1983:147) likened to pie “wedges.” Lévi-Strauss’s concept of a diametric model can be related to Dunnell’s notion of circumferential patterning, if the binary division of a village is viewed as two large equal-sized wedges. Dunnell’s (1983) distributional analysis of ceramic style elements at the Mayo site led to the delineation of two style zones. These zones were not an artifact of site boundaries, because the pattern is seen on either side of the boundaries created by excavation limits and erosion. Thus, he de¤ned two large wedges that indicated a binary division based on style variation within the Mayo site (Dunnell 1983:149). Dunnell himself clearly would not advocate that this binary division was created by the use of a cognitive diametric model in the layout of social groups and their associated activities. To do this, one would be equating spatial patterns with social structure (Dunnell 1983:124). Dunnell (1983:124–125) was explicitly concerned with creating behavioral

62 / Chapter 4

16. Circumferential model of a ring-shaped settlement.

models to analyze and interpret patterning in the distribution of archaeological remains. He argued that archaeologists should not attempt to interpret social structure from spatial patterning at a site. Dunnell (1983:141) saw the distribution of artifacts related primarily to refuse disposal and not to social structure. However, refuse disposal behaviors and localization of social groups are not antithetical. Where social groups formed dwelling clusters at a village site, some secondary refuse disposal—such as sweeping materials from inside and around dwellings—likely occurred into open pit features that would have been located in the dwelling clusters. The SunWatch site shared with the Mayo site not only radial patterning in the functional distribution of feature classes but circumferential patterning as well. Ceramic style attributes, distribution of functional feature classes, and mortuary data have led several researchers to recognize that radial patterning of select site attributes at SunWatch exhibited variation around the circumference of the plaza area (Heilman and Hoefer 1981:161). The excavated portion of the site was divided into four ceramic style zones that are thought to have

Building Models / 63 represented either discrete households, lineages, or clans, depending on the researcher’s perspective (Cook and Sunderhaus 1999; Drooker 1997:89; Nass 1989:5; Nass and Yerkes 1995:76–78). Despite Dunnell’s (1983) objections, there exists ethnographic, ethnohistoric, and ethnoarchaeological support that cognitive circumferential models can in®uence the localization of social organizations within the layout of ringshaped village settlements. The Bororo followed “a paradigmatic plan for localizing social units on the village circumference” (Fabian 1992:37). Villagers can order their dwellings around the circumference of their settlement into segments consisting of different extended families, as seen among the !Kung (Yellen 1977:89). Circumferential models can operate on different levels of inclusion with respect to social organizations present within a community. Speci¤cally, in addition to a binary division into two moiety groups, Central Brazilian village settlements (Fabian 1992:37–43; James 1949:17–19; Lea 1995:206–207; LéviStrauss 1963a:120; Lowie 1946a:389, 1946c:491) and North American Plains Indian camping circles (Dorsey 1884:219–220, 1897:214; Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:57, 137–138) frequently have or had clans localized into speci¤c segments along the circumference of their settlements. As seen among the Bororo, the locations of clan subdivisions can vary within the segment of the village circle assigned to the clan (Fabian 1992:41–43). The order in which clans are localized may be maintained throughout successive moves of the community from one settlement to another (Dorsey 1884:219–220; Fabian 1992:41–43; Lea 1995:206– 207). If a clan ceases to exist, or “dies,” within a particular community, the segment of the village circumference assigned to the clan may be kept vacant until it can be reestablished by clan representatives from another community (Lea 1995:208). Of course, these clans would be viewed by some scholars as representing Lévi-Straussian houses. In at least one case, the clans of one moiety were ¤xed in place, whereas those of the other moiety were not. Among the Osage, one moiety was divided into two clans that always camped in the same order on the north side of the camping circle. The other moiety was divided into three clans that could change their order when a new camping circle was established, creating three possible camping circle con¤gurations. One con¤guration was considered the “usual order,” another the “hunting order,” and the third the “sacred order” (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:57–58), suggesting that the different con¤gurations served varying social purposes. These different con¤gurations are structural poses in Gearing’s (1958) sense. This type of situation was not clearly repeated in any of the other ethnographic or ethnohistoric ring-shaped village cases examined for this study. The localization of social organizations on the clan level normally seems more invariant.

64 / Chapter 4 Both functional and status differences can be evident along the circumference of a ring-shaped village. Among the Osage, for example, the ¤rst and second clans on either side of the entrance to their camping circle functioned as camp policeman who helped maintain social order within the settlement (Dorsey 1897:214). Wüst and Barreto (1999:15) stated that the Bororo maintain privileged locations along the circumference of their village settlements. Their headmen occupy dwellings on either side of the village entrance, through which ceremonial paths lead out of the village. In a similar case, the headman’s dwelling in the village of Mehinaku is the closest to the road leading out of the settlement (Gregor 1977:50). Other than privileged locations at the entrance to the village settlement, it is not clear in these cases whether status varied in any recognizable pattern along the circumference of the house ring, such as decreasing as one moves farther from the entrance to the village. If these functional and status differences are limited to dwellings or clans on either side of the entrance to the village, this patterning may more properly be seen as diametric and not as circumferential. Nonetheless, the possibility of functional and status differences according to circumferential models should be kept in mind. There are at least two cases where status variation within a settlement’s layout conforms to circumferential models. As noted earlier, southern Bantu homesteads are arranged according to a diametric model with all houses in the half of the homestead to the right of the Indlunkulu, or great hut, having a higher status than all the houses in the half of the homestead to its left (Kuper 1993:474–477). Strictly speaking, this pattern indicates not simply the operation of a diametric model for status divisions within the homestead but of a circumferential model as well. Further, there is a gradation where status decreases as one moves from west to east in the homestead. The Indlunkulu and Ilawu, or sleeping hut, occupy the highest status position within the homestead and the dwellings in the right- and left-hand segments decrease in status along the circumference of the homestead as one moves away from the Indlunkulu/Ilawu, although any single dwelling in the right-hand segment is always of higher status than any single dwelling in the left-hand segment (Kuper 1993:474). The village of Omarakana, Trobriand Islands, New Guinea, was also divided into three segments related to status and social differences. These were created by the nature or lack of kinship ties between segment members and the village headman. Referring back to its site plan (see Figure 10), the village of Omarakana was divided into (1) an arc of houses from A to B that was occupied by the wives of the headman; (2) an arc of houses from A to C that was inhabited by the headman’s maternal kinfolk; and (3) an arc of houses from B to C that was inhabited by commoners who were not related to the headman as kinsmen or as children (Malinowski 1987 [1929]:9). Because the village head-

Building Models / 65 man’s hut was located in the settlement’s center, concentric and circumferential models worked simultaneously to create a spatial representation of status differences within the village. Hub-and-Spoke Model. Diametric, concentric, and circumferential models can operate simultaneously or sequentially, and on the same or different organizational levels, to in®uence the layout of a ring-shaped settlement from its initial establishment throughout its occupational history. It was recognized earlier that concentric and diametric models are interrelated and should not be applied without reference to each other. Similarly, circumferential models should not be applied without reference to concentric and diametric models. All three models are complementary and interdependent. A general hub-andspoke model has been developed for ring-shaped village spatial organization that combines facets of these three complementary and interdependent models (Figure 17). The model’s name was inspired by one researcher’s observation that the Central Brazilian village of Ponto “looks like a huge wheel, with the plaza at the hub and the spokes [paths] radiating to the houses which are on the circumference” (James 1949:27). In the hub-and-spoke model, the hub represents the central public and, perhaps, sacred plaza, and the spokes radiate out from center to periphery, which is the private domestic and, perhaps, profane area. In addition to this representation of a concentric model, the spokes divide the periphery into a number of wedges, highlighting the existence of a circumferential model. Wedges can combine in different ways and on different levels, perhaps related to the formation of groups and subgroups of differing sizes, depending on the strength of social, economic and ideological ties. The operation of a diametric model in the layout of a ring-shaped village settlement is evident if two major wedge groupings are present, which can include a variable number of subgroups. The hub-and-spoke model is intended as a heuristic construct designed to emphasize that village spatial layouts must be examined in terms of diametric, concentric, and circumferential patterning. However, one implication of the huband-spoke model is that the distribution of village elements could be related to their position around the circumference of the village and their distance from the village’s center. COMMUNITY PATTERNS AND COMMUNITY SYSTEMS The geometric models considered here are intended to help recognize spatial patterning among archaeological remains and cannot be used to directly reconstruct village social organizations; archaeologists do not excavate village communities but rather their material remains (Dunnell 1983). Following similar arguments made on a larger scale for regional settlement pattern studies, Glen

66 / Chapter 4

17. Hub-and-spoke model of a ring-shaped settlement.

Rice (1987:15) pointed out the importance of differentiating between a community pattern and a community system. He de¤ned a community pattern as “an observational reality, the patterning of a set of variables and units across the space occupied by a [community] group. The variables may refer to discrete objects, structures, features or ecofacts” (G. Rice 1987:15–16). A community system “is a conceptual model of the behavioral processes which are responsible for the creation of a spatial (or community) pattern” (G. Rice 1987:16). Archaeologists model as a community system only a subset of the rules used by a community to govern interaction between its members—particularly those rules related to “the deposition of artifacts and the construction of features” (G. Rice 1987:16), the latter of which include the traces of architectural elements. ARCHAEOLOGICAL IMPLICATIONS Rice’s distinction between a community pattern and a community system is in keeping with the broader goals of “archaeology . . . to reconstruct non-

Building Models / 67 observables (past behavior and ideas) through the discovery of patterning among observables (archaeological phenomenon)” (Carr 1984:106). The study of community patterns can thus bene¤t from all the tools and techniques developed by archaeologists to study the material remains of the past. Binford (1967, 1972) noted that if one proceeds with proper circumspection, ethnographic or ethnohistoric literature can be searched for examples that resemble patterning observed in the archaeological record and provide a potential explanation for that patterning. The consideration of various geometric models for ring-shaped settlements in this chapter involved such an approach to ethnographic, ethnohistoric, and archaeological literature. However, although archaeologists can—and should—use ethnographic or ethnohistoric literature to develop models that explain patterning within a site, they must always remain cognizant that they are analyzing archaeological data and not making ethnographic observations. Allen and Richardson (1971:43–44) cautioned against oversimplifying observations drawn from the ethnographic record and then using these oversimpli¤cations to interpret the archaeological record. Archaeologists can also encounter community patterns with no ethnographic or ethnohistoric analogues. There could also be multiple solutions for the same community pattern. At this juncture, it is important to emphasize that the models described in this chapter arose through a review of cognitive and behavioral geometric models intended by their proponents to explain the social or physical organization of ring-shaped settlements. Research presented earlier indicates that cognitive geometric models are used to guide the planning of ring-shaped village settlements. These models interact with the varying levels of social groups within villages to generate community patterns and activity structures that can be studied by archaeologists. In this study, application of geometric models will generate community patterns that can then be related to possible village social organizations for each site to be examined. Community patterns of several kinds and at several scales should be evident in material elements of the village. The location and physical characteristics of dwellings within village sites are expected to be one of the strongest indicators of community patterns. After all, ring-shaped settlements are de¤ned by a ring of dwellings around a central open area. Dwellings are typically the largest single element created within a village settlement, are frequently imbued with ideological, economic and social signi¤cance, and can act as a physical anchor for a social group (Gillespie 2000a, 2000b; Kuper 1993). The study of the size and distribution of burials, hearths, and other pit features, especially relative to dwellings and the plaza, should give considerable insight into social, behavioral, and ideological facets of community organization. In fact, pit feature data are integral to ascertaining the nature of geometric pat-

68 / Chapter 4 terning at ring-shaped sites, particularly because different feature classes can exhibit the in®uence of different geometric models. Archaeologically, this information can demonstrate that geometric models played an active role in planning and managing village settlement space, including the location of discrete social groups.

5 Models and Hypotheses Related to Community Organization

The cross-cultural research presented in Chapter 4 certainly demonstrates that some societies draw on geometric models to localize discrete social groups within the layouts of their ring-shaped settlements. This research also indicates that the seemingly simple layout of the ring-shaped settlement can mask several distinct and diverse underlying geometric models. The ¤rst section of this chapter presents a discussion of how models are employed in the remainder of this work. The next section outlines a set of geometric models against which Allegheny Mountains region village components are later evaluated. A second set of models is presented next that seeks to elucidate more directly the kinds of social groups that may have once been present within each village component. A set of hypotheses is then delineated that examines variation between Allegheny Mountains region village components and whether there were any differences that might re®ect directional change within a local developmental sequence. Each individual model or hypothesis has its basic premise presented in italics, and archaeological correlates are listed after an abbreviated discussion of the model or hypothesis. IMPLEMENTING MODELS IN THIS WORK The primary purpose of a model is to relate observations to theoretical ideas. Models can vary widely in how they are implemented and what classes of observations are employed in them (Clarke 1972:1). Clarke (1972:2) notes that the purpose of a model is to isolate essential factors and interrelationships that account for variability of interest. The ¤rst set of models implemented in this work is designed to isolate the geometric nature underlying the community patterns of ring-shaped settlements. Archaeological correlates for this set of models are derived from the theoretical understanding of each geometric model developed in Chapter 4.

70 / Chapter 5 The theoretical underpinnings of some geometric models, such as those proposed by Lévi-Strauss, are derived from attempts to understand native cognitive models used to plan settlements. These cognitive models could be perceived as providing an emic, or insiders’, understanding of village-wide planning principles. However, these cognitive models rely on arti¤cial constructs created by anthropologists, notably kinship categories, and therefore should not be seen as pure emic models. Fabian (1992:63), for example, cautioned that concentric and diametric models of spatial organization are an approximation of native spatial perceptions. Those geometric models developed by archaeologists, including Yellen and Dunnell, explicitly rely on outsider, or etic, analyses and interpretations to uncover patterning in the distribution of material items that have a geometric basis. The archaeological correlates for the second set of models are derived from a simpli¤ed view of the types of social groups discussed in Chapter 3. These models are related to social groups that represent abstractions of what can be complex social entities. The social groups themselves represent etic descriptions of native social organizations that may emphasize similarities over differences. Therefore, the models of social groups presented in this work focus on broader social categories that may leave behind a physical signature in the archaeological record. GEOMETRIC MODELS AND A RING-SHAPED SETTLEMENT’S COMMUNITY PATTERN More than one geometric model can in®uence the layout of a ring-shaped settlement, each operating on different levels or different classes of material remains. One scenario would see con¤gurations of dwellings within a ringshaped village settlement—at its founding—resulting from an ideal geometric model that governed the disposition of individual families or larger corporate social groups along the lines of a lineage, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. However, as members of a community adjust to the physical reality of co-residence, different geometric models—possibly derived variants from an ideal model— might then act on other elements of a village settlement and in®uence the locations of various activities. Village components from the Allegheny Mountains region are analyzed with respect to select geometric models described in Chapter 4. A diametric model accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. Lévi-Strauss described Central Brazilian village settlements as having a dualistic structure because they are socially, conceptually, and physically divided in half. In terms of a site’s community pattern, a diametric model could be pres-

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 71 ent where all or some elements fall into one of two spatial divisions within the village site. Archaeological correlates: 1. Dwellings form two major clusters arrayed on opposite sides of the village site. 2. With the potential exception of a centrally located feature used for ceremonies or rituals, possibly acting as an axis mundi, functional feature classes form two major clusters arrayed on opposite sides of the village site. Two or more functional feature classes may consistently co-occur within the same discrete cluster. 3. Functional or stylistic artifact classes form two major clusters arrayed on opposite sides of the village site. Two or more artifact classes may consistently co-occur within the same discrete cluster. A generalized concentric model accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. Lévi-Strauss also argued that Central Brazilian village settlements exhibit a form of concentric dualism in which a central sacred space is encircled by dwellings that de¤ne a profane periphery. A generalized concentric model could appear archaeologically as a central plaza surrounded by an undifferentiated domestic zone consisting of dwellings, functional feature classes, and functional or stylistic artifact classes. Archaeological correlates: 1. A circular and centrally distributed plaza is present within the village site. 2. Dwellings are arrayed in a band around the central plaza, forming a domestic zone. 3. With the potential exception of a centrally located feature used for ceremonies or rituals, possibly acting as an axis mundi, features are arrayed without regard to functional class in a band around the central plaza and con¤ned to the domestic zone. 4. Artifact classes are arrayed in a band around the central plaza and con¤ned to the domestic zone. A concentric model along the lines of Yellen’s ring model accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. Using data from !Kung bushmen camps, Yellen developed a ring model of camp structure explicitly intended to account for the spatial distribution of nonportable physical elements, such as dwellings and features, and the locations of activities and their associated artifacts. Yellen divided !Kung camps into an inner ring consisting of dwellings

72 / Chapter 5 and their associated private family activities and an outer ring accessible to the entire community and the location of more public activities. Private family activities included storage, food processing, meal preparation, and manufacturing activities that were spatially restricted (Yellen 1977:87, 91). Public activities encompassed dancing and meat distribution in the community’s center— which left no material correlates—and spatially extensive or noxious activities, including disposal of the community’s refuse (Yellen 1977:95). Archaeological correlates: 1. Dwellings are arrayed in a band around a central communal area, forming a domestic zone. 2. Functional feature classes associated with each dwelling re®ect private family activities, including hearths or storage pits. 3. Artifact classes associated with each dwelling re®ect private family activities, including minor amounts of faunal remains associated with food preparation and consumption, and debris from small-scale manufacturing. 4. Functional feature classes on the outer edge of the village site re®ect public or communal activities, including those associated with spatially extensive activities or refuse disposal. Some features should re®ect secondary use for disposal of more hazardous or noxious materials. 5. Artifact classes on the outer edge of the village site re®ect public or communal activities, such as the disposal of noxious or hazardous materials. A concentric model along the lines of Portnoy’s ring model accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. Using the concept of “front” and “back” regions, Portnoy subdivided Yellen’s ring model into four concentric zones depending partly on the degree of privacy associated with family and community activities: a communal front region; a family front region; a family back region; and a communal back region. Thus, one may have to examine the locations of activities—as represented by functional feature classes or constellations of artifact classes—to determine if a particular activity was preferentially conducted in one of Portnoy’s four radial bands. The disposal of a community’s deceased might take place in the communal or family front regions in some societies and in the communal or family back regions in others. Archaeological correlates: 1. Dwellings are arrayed in a band around a central plaza, forming a domestic zone.

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 73 2. The central plaza contains a feature used for ceremonies or rituals, possibly acting as an axis mundi and supporting the notion that the plaza acted in a socially integrative role as a communal front region. 3. Artifact classes in the central plaza—if present—should re®ect evidence of feasting or other ritual activities. 4. Functional feature classes located in the family front region—adjacent to and on the plaza-facing side of dwellings—were associated with activities appropriate for social and public settings. These may include hearths used as the loci of guest entertainment or shared manufacturing activities. 5. Functional feature classes located in the family back region—adjacent to and on the side of dwellings facing the outer edges of the settlement— were associated with private family activities. These may include hearths used for individual food preparation, storage features, and pit features containing debris from small-scale food preparation or other household maintenance activities. 6. Functional feature classes in the communal back region—on the outer edges of the village site—were associated with necessary activities, including refuse disposal. Features should be larger, re®ecting larger-scale activities, and indicate secondary use for disposal of more hazardous or noxious materials. 7. Artifact classes located in the family front region—adjacent to and on the plaza-facing side of dwellings—were associated with activities appropriate for social and public settings. The artifact classes might include evidence of food consumption and debris from small-scale manufacturing of items, such as chipped stone tools or beads. 8. Artifact classes located in the family back region—adjacent to and on the side of dwellings facing the outer edges of the settlement—were associated with private family activities. Artifact classes might represent disposal of items associated with household maintenance—as long as these artifacts were minimally hazardous or noxious—and small-scale manufacturing of items. 9. Artifact classes in the communal back region—on the outer edges of the village site—were by-products of necessary activities, including refuse disposal. Artifact classes should indicate evidence of large-scale activities—such as animal butchering—and disposal of hazardous or noxious materials. A concentric model along the lines of Dunnell’s radial model of functional feature classes accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. In this

74 / Chapter 5 model, Dunnell suggested that one would expect radial patterning in the distribution of functional feature classes at ring-shaped village sites. Although initially de¤ned in terms of functional feature classes, this model is extended here to include functional and stylistic artifact classes. All artifacts considered in this work are from feature contexts. Therefore, functional or stylistic artifact classes may display patterning that is independent of their association with speci¤c functional feature classes. In many respects, this expanded model is operationally like the “fuzzy” dualism model discussed in Chapter 4 except that Dunnell’s model can be applied to circular settlements that lack a central plaza. The generalized concentric model can be viewed partly as a specialized case of Dunnell’s model, with all functional feature classes and functional and stylistic artifact classes overlapping the same discrete radial band and associated with the ring of dwellings around a central plaza. Archaeological correlates: 1. With the potential exception of a centrally located feature used for ceremonies or rituals, possibly acting as an axis mundi, each functional feature class is con¤ned to a discrete radial band de¤ned relative to a village site’s center. Two or more functional feature classes may partly or completely overlap within the same discrete radial band. 2. Each functional or stylistic artifact class is con¤ned to a discrete radial band de¤ned relative to a village site’s center. Two or more artifact classes may partly or completely overlap within the same discrete radial band. A circumferential model accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. Dunnell’s model of circumferential patterning showed that elements located within the occupation zone of ring-shaped village sites may form clusters of equal or varying size, thus dividing the circumference of the village site into segments akin to pie wedges. When applied to a ring-shaped village site, the diametric model can be viewed as a special case of a circumferential model that has only two major divisions, such that dwellings, functional feature classes, or functional or stylistic artifact classes form two major clusters arrayed on opposite sides of a village’s central plaza. Archaeological correlates: 1. Dwellings are arrayed around a central plaza and form three or more discrete clusters. 2. With the potential exception of a centrally located feature used for ceremonies or rituals, possibly acting as an axis mundi, functional feature classes are arrayed around a central plaza and form three or more dis-

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 75 crete clusters. Two or more functional feature classes may consistently co-occur within the same discrete cluster or may be consistently segregated from one another in different discrete clusters. 3. Functional or stylistic artifact classes are arrayed around a central plaza and form three or more discrete clusters. Two or more artifact classes may consistently co-occur within the same discrete cluster or may be consistently segregated from one another in different discrete clusters. A hub-and-spoke model accounts for a nonrandom distribution of village elements. The hub-and-spoke model was developed in this work to combine aspects of concentric and circumferential models. Essentially, in this model, the distributions of village elements are viewed as related simultaneously to their distance from the village’s center and their position along the circumference of the village’s domestic zone. Archaeological correlates: 1. Dwellings are arrayed around a central plaza and form two or more discrete clusters. 2. With the potential exception of a centrally located feature used for ceremonies or rituals, possibly acting as an axis mundi, functional feature classes are arrayed around a central plaza, are con¤ned to the same discrete radial band, and form two or more discrete clusters. Two or more functional feature classes may consistently co-occur within the same discrete cluster or may be consistently segregated from one another in different discrete clusters. 3. Functional or stylistic artifact classes are arrayed around a central plaza, are con¤ned to the same discrete radial band, and form two or more discrete clusters. Two or more artifact classes may consistently co-occur within the same discrete cluster or may be consistently segregated from one another in different discrete clusters. MODELING SOCIAL GROUPS REPRESENTED WITHIN A VILLAGE COMPONENT Deciphering the underlying geometric model(s) for each Allegheny Mountains region village component provides a direct description of its community pattern and whether or not social groups were localized within a village component according to geometric models. However, successfully deciphering the geometric model(s) responsible for each individual community pattern does not directly indicate the kind of social groups within a village component even if they did localize. Achieving this latter goal depends on the nature of Monon-

76 / Chapter 5 gahela tradition society and the types of social groups expected to have existed within their village communities. As detailed in the preceding chapter, ringshaped settlements can accommodate a wide variety of social groups drawing on a diverse set of geometric models. Ring-shaped settlements based on varying underlying geometric models have been documented at societies ranging in complexity from !Kung foraging groups (Yellen 1977) to Trobriand Island chiefdoms (Lévi-Strauss 1963a). If considered at all, studies of social organization from the remains of Monongahela tradition sites have concentrated on recognizing individual households and their role in village society. Nass and Hart (2000) emphasized the central role of individual households as the basic units of social, economic, and political organization within Monongahela tradition village communities (see also Hart et al. 2005; Nass 1995). Although not disputing a central role for the household in the daily lives of these villagers, some larger principles of social organization tend to be neglected in household studies, and these might also have exerted in®uence on the layouts of their village sites. Drawing on the literature review in Chapter 3, we can expect that a “tribal” society along the lines of those incorporated within the Monongahela tradition had village communities that potentially consisted of social groups such as discrete and functionally redundant households; household clusters representing different corporate groups—such as lineages, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses; or larger social aggregates like dual divisions. Acting either in concert or independently of social group type, other social, political, or economic factors— such as a village leader’s dwelling occupying a prominent position along the village circle—also could have in®uenced the con¤gurations of Monongahela tradition village settlements. The models presented in this section will consider relevant social, political, or economic factors and allow inference of the social group types that were once extant at each village component. The nature and extent of social, political, and economic links within a village can be measured in part by examining dwelling-size variation, degree of dwelling clustering, and total volume and type of features associated with dwellings or dwelling clusters. Variation in distance between dwellings or dwelling clusters can be used as a measure of interaction between social subgroups. Stylistic variation between different dwellings or dwelling clusters, such as differing cordage-twist impressions on ceramics (Maslowski 1984), may usefully distinguish social groups of varying sizes. Burial clusters could indicate the presence of supra-household corporate groups (Goldstein 1981). Unless the types of social groups that were once present at a village component are delineated, it will not be possible to ascertain to what extent geometric models in®uenced or structured social interaction within a village community, except in the most general terms.

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 77 Social organization within a village site was at the level of autonomous or informally linked households. Allegheny Mountains region village components could have consisted of discrete and functionally redundant households, as Nass (1995) found at the Throckmorton site. If a village site essentially consisted of independent residential units, geometric models may have had a fairly limited role in in®uencing or structuring social interaction. Archaeological correlates: 1. Generally, dwellings will be evenly spaced. Evenly spaced dwellings would likely have been more economically independent than unevenly spaced dwellings (see Nass 1995). If dwellings occur in clusters, these may represent part of a normal domestic cycle, with a single family expanding as children reach adulthood, marry, and create their own households. Estimating the number of a dwelling’s residents assists in distinguishing a single family residential complex from a larger corporate social group. 2. Stylistic artifact classes will likely be evenly distributed throughout the village site, because there would have been little need for such formal methods of social identi¤cation to distinguish between households. 3. Functional feature classes will be evenly represented at each household with feature volume correlating to the number of that household’s residents. 4. Feature classes will not overlap between discrete households. 5. Burial features, if present, will not form discrete clusters. Social organization within a village site was at a level where there were formal links among some or all households. Even if households were the basic units of Monongahela tradition village communities, as asserted by Nass and Hart (2000), different households may have developed formal links of varying strength. Dwelling clusters representing more formally linked households will “scale” between loosely to tightly clustered, depending on the strength of social, economic, and political ties (following Wilk 1991:208–209). If dwellings form clusters larger than those attributable to individual families, these clusters may represent traces of corporate groups, such as lineage segments, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. These social groups are dif¤cult enough to recognize when dealing directly with them in the ethnographic record, and some may overlap socially or in their material correlates. Archaeologically, these social groups may leave similar traces or none at all. However, it is not necessary to identify speci¤cally which type of corporate social group was represented at a village component to demonstrate that these corporate groups localized within a settlement according to geometric models.

78 / Chapter 5 Archaeological correlates: 1. Dwellings form clusters. Some dwellings were built closer to one another than absolutely required by available occupational space and by adherence to geometric models used to plan and structure settlement space (for example, residential dwellings were placed around and not within the central plaza of a ring-shaped settlement). Population estimates assist with determining whether dwelling clusters represented single family households or larger social groups. More than ten individuals in a dwelling cluster would indicate a social group that was at least as complex as an extended family (Curet 1998). 2. If dwellings are loosely clustered, features will be present both within and between dwelling clusters. 3. If dwellings are tightly clustered, features will be con¤ned within dwelling clusters but may not be associated with a speci¤c dwelling. 4. Stylistic artifact classes, if present, will form discrete clusters that correlate with dwelling clusters. 5. Graves, if present, will form discrete clusters if dwellings are tightly clustered. Formal demarcation of cemeteries—possibly by dwelling clusters— may indicate the horizontal social position of the deceased within a corporate social group (Carr 1995:191; Goldstein 1981:61). 6. The number of discrete dwelling clusters within a village site will correlate with the number of formal cemeteries if dwellings form clusters larger than those attributable to individual families. 7. Membership of individuals within the same horizontal social segment may be indicated if all individuals within a cemetery share some constellation of attributes, including grave orientation, grave architecture, or speci¤c types of grave furniture. A dual organization, such as a moiety, was present in a village component. This model essentially has the same archaeological correlates as the diametric model. It should be noted that dual divisions are not necessarily re®ected in material remains. Even if a dual pattern is recognized from a site’s archaeological remains, it will likely not be possible to differentiate whether this dual pattern represented a moiety governing marriage or some other form of dual organization. If veri¤ed, two archaeological correlates from the diametric model would provide the strongest evidence that a dual pattern in a site’s layout represented a dual organization within village society. A third archaeological correlate is added here that is derived from ethnohistoric sources. Archaeological correlates: (modi¤ed from the diametric model) 1. A dual organization may be present if dwellings or dwelling clusters form two larger clusters arrayed on opposite sides of the village’s plaza.

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 79 2. A dual organization may be present if stylistic artifact classes—such as ceramics with different cordage-twist impressions—separate dwellings or dwelling clusters into two larger groups arrayed on opposite sides of the village’s plaza. This distinction emphasizes that dual divisions in some village communities are exogamous with respect to the community, resulting in two different learning pools. 3. A dual organization may be present if a line bisecting two dwelling clusters or two stylistic artifact clusters is oriented with respect to the cardinal directions. Among some Plains Indian groups, the intangible dividing line between each half of a moiety was frequently oriented with respect to a cardinal direction (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911:137–138). One or more sodalities were present within a village community to integrate two or more independent households or larger corporate social groups. Hill (1970: 43) noted that although sodalities are not generally localized, they can localize for brief periods. In several societies with ring-shaped settlements, sodalities often are present in unusually large structures, sometimes referred to as “men’s houses” (Butt 1977; Chang 1958). A plaza may function as a men’s house in a smaller settlement (James 1949; Lowie 1946b), so the absence of an unusually large structure does not necessarily verify that the community lacked sodalities. Archaeological correlates: 1. An unusually large structure was present at a village component. Because sodality structures may not have had special architectural features other than their size, the range of dwelling sizes at a village settlement will be examined to determine if any represent unusually large structures. 2. If an unusually large structure is present, its position within the village component may be differentiated with respect to strictly residential structures. In known ring-shaped village settlements, the sodality structure occupies a position within the settlement that sets it apart from other residential structures, perhaps intruding into—or fully inside—the central plaza. 3. If an unusually large structure is present and the village component has evidence for a dual division, the unusually large structure will be located so that its central axis is bisected by the dual division. Sodality structures in some known ring-shaped settlements are divided into two sections, each devoted to one half of the settlement’s dual division. 4. If an unusually large structure is present, it will have evidence for craft activities that are often associated with males. Sodality structures that function as men’s houses are also often the loci of male-centric activities, which could include the manufacture and maintenance of stone tools.

80 / Chapter 5 5. If an unusually large structure is present, its function may be indicated by internal contents and features, such as large roasting pits, ceremonial paraphernalia, and associated organic remains re®ecting feasting ceremonies. Status distinctions in®uenced the distribution of all or some elements within a village component. The cross-cultural review of ring-shaped settlements showed that status distinctions sometimes in®uence the distribution of village elements. Despite claims to the contrary made by Anderson (2002) and Davis (1984) for more signi¤cant social complexity, it is expected that Monongahela tradition village communities had the types of achieved and ascribed statuses that one would expect of “tribal” societies, including distinctions made on gender, on age, and possibly on economic and political accomplishments. It is further expected that these distinctions will be most widely re®ected within the mortuary program of each village component, if graves are present. The issue of whether membership in a corporate group in®uenced grave locations was considered above. The sizes and positions of dwellings may also re®ect status distinctions within village society. Individuals or groups with greater economic, political, and social standing within the village may have occupied privileged locations along the dwelling ring—such as opposite a village’s entrance (Kuper 1993) or adjacent to the entrance (Fletcher and La Flesche 1911)— or may have been closer to the plaza (Pearson and Richards 1994:19). Archaeological correlates: 1. An individual’s gender, age, or both determined the placement of their grave within a village component. 2. Contra Anderson (2002) and Davis (1984), graves will not indicate the presence of an elite class at a village component. 3. A household or larger corporate group’s status determined whether their dwelling(s) held a privileged position in the order of dwellings arrayed around the village’s central plaza. Status distinctions may correlate to dwelling size, and number and volume of features, particularly those associated with storage. More successful social groups would have had larger dwellings or larger dwelling clusters (Wilk 1991) and an increased number of activities represented within the group (see Hart and Nass 1994:24). The household or other social group with the highest status within a village community may have had a dwelling with a greater volume of attached storage features relative to dwelling size, unusual quantities or types of associated artifacts—particularly restricted access to nonlocal goods—and placement adjacent to or opposite the main entrance into the dwelling ring. The identi¤cation of a dwelling as associated with an individual acting as a village leader, shaman, or war leader (Kent

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 81 1990b:132–133; Service 1975:47–70; Wason 1994:41–47) would be enhanced if there were seven or more households within the settlement, possibly having generated the development of some form of supra-household decision-making level, following Johnson (1978, 1982). 4. An individual’s status determined the placement of the person’s grave within a village component. Comparatively high status within a village community may be indicated by a grave’s association with a prominent dwelling or dwelling cluster, grave architecture, and number and kind of accompanying grave goods. For example, as the community’s representative with other groups, a village leader’s grave may have contained signi¤cant quantities of nonlocal goods obtained through trade. HYPOTHESES RELATED TO CULTURAL VARIABILITY AND CHANGE One of archaeology’s great strengths is that it can afford the researcher considerable time depth for examining potential cultural change. New AMS dates and recent conventional radiocarbon dates show that the earliest known village component in the Allegheny Mountains region was occupied ca. a.d. 1100, roughly around the time that people throughout the Northeast began to live regularly in village settlements and practice intensive maize-based horticulture (Hart and Means 2002). These same dates indicate that the latest known village component in this region dated to around the middle of the sixteenth century a.d., only a few decades before the apparent cultural demise of the Monongahela tradition. Commitment by social groups to co-residence in villages and pursuit of an agricultural lifestyle has had profound consequences on the structure and organization of their societies (Price and Gebaurer 1995:3). Adoption of an agricultural lifestyle in the rugged Allegheny Mountains region, where arable land is limited to discrete and sometimes discontinuous sections (Means 2002a), could have led to a shift through time from autonomous households to more formal corporate groups with greater hereditary control over land and other property. This shift or other social factors could have changed how geometric models were used to structure social groups and their activities, leading to profound alterations in village layouts. As each new settlement was established, design modi¤cations could have been incorporated based on lessons learned from previous manifestations of the local group. People change their built environment when it ceases to accommodate their behavioral requirements (Lawrence and Low 1990:460). Establishment of new settlements is sometimes consciously recognized as an opportunity to alter village layouts to re®ect changes in social relations (Fenton 1951:42; James 1949:56). Although individual community patterns represented choices made by their

82 / Chapter 5 village communities, these community patterns may also have re®ected larger regional trends. Three hypotheses are offered in this section to facilitate comparisons between key aspects of village community patterns for sites occupied contemporaneously or sequentially. These hypotheses focus on select aspects of village community patterns that facilitate a determination of whether community pattern variability represented directional cultural change within the local developmental sequence. Even if variation in village components did not re®ect larger trends, patterning in an individual component’s layout cannot be fully appreciated unless it is compared with other village components in the Allegheny Mountains region, ideally across time. Other hypotheses obviously could be offered here as well but are not done so because the primary intent of this work is to explore the nature of ring-shaped settlements and not other issues of interest to Monongahela tradition and other scholars. Hart et al. (2005) provide a consideration of other important theoretical and analytical topics. There was a general trend for increasing village size throughout the local developmental sequence. Some researchers have argued for a general trend of increasing village size among the Monongahela tradition after a.d. 1250, partly because populations became circumscribed as people supposedly abandoned regions because of warfare or a climatic downturn (George 1974; Johnson 2001; Johnson et al. 1989; Richardson et al. 2002). The Allegheny Mountains region was originally thought to have been abandoned by a.d. 1250, but recent AMS dates demonstrated that this area was inhabited for at least three centuries after this date. Nonetheless, one can modify these researchers’ original assumption and argue that village sites generally increased in size through time beginning at the appearance of the ¤rst known village site in the region. These researchers generally assumed that increased village site size was a function of total village area, although, naturally, village site size can be measured also in terms of total village population. Village area and village population are not necessarily directly related because the same village area can be occupied by populations of different density. Archaeological correlates: 1. Village sites increased in size through time as re®ected by total village area. 2. Village sites increased in size through time as re®ected by total village population. There was an increased range in village sizes through time. Whereas some see a general trend of increasing village size after a.d. 1250, other scholars have suggested that there was an increased range in village sizes through time. This suggested relationship between overall village size and an individual village

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 83 site’s order in local developmental sequences has been related to increased regional packing through time, which would have decreased options for a community to ¤ssion and establish daughter communities (Hart 1993; Hart et al. 2005; Nass and Hart 2000). Archaeological correlates: 1. Small village sites were evident throughout the local developmental sequence. 2. Increasingly larger village sites appeared later in the local developmental sequence. Larger village sites not only appeared later in the local developmental sequence but also had structurally more complex community patterns than smaller villages. This hypothesis essentially considers that a village component’s size was related in some fashion to the number of individuals and discrete social groups that once occupied that component. Larger village components could have had communities that were more socially complex than smaller components because an increase in the number of discrete social groups would have necessitated more mechanisms to maintain a stable community. Larger settlements are expected to have been later in the local developmental sequence as villagers learned to manipulate their social spaces more effectively within the context of their geometric models and to better handle scalar stresses and other sources of intracommunity con®ict. Some of these mechanisms employed or developed to enhance community solidarity could have included the manipulation of village architectural elements and social spaces and should be re®ected in a village component’s community pattern. The number of different types of spaces, the proliferation of new kinds of spaces within a village site’s layout, and the degree to which space was segmented can be used to measure the relative complexity of one village component compared to another (Kent 1990a, 1990b). Archaeological correlates: 1. Increasingly larger village components appeared later in the local developmental sequence. 2. Compared to smaller village components, larger village components had a relatively larger plaza area and smaller ratio of dwelling area to plaza to minimize tension and to allow for subsequent internal growth. 3. A greater incidence of dwellings forming clusters was evident in larger village components compared to smaller village components, mirroring the development of more formal corporate groups, including lineages, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses.

84 / Chapter 5 4. A greater incidence of features forming clusters was evident in larger village components compared to smaller village components. 5. Graves were more likely associated with formally demarcated cemeteries in larger village components than smaller village components, and the number of cemeteries also correlated directly with the number of dwelling clusters within a village component. 6. Unusually large structures—possibly associated with sodalities—were more frequently associated with larger village components than smaller village components. This situation resulted because sodalities became more central to village communities as one mechanism for enhancing community integration. 7. Dual organizations more likely characterized larger village components than smaller village components because dual organizations developed as a mechanism for enhancing community integration. 8. The development of a level of supra-household decision making resulting in a formal village leader was more evident in larger village components than smaller village components. This difference was evidenced by a dwelling or dwelling cluster situated in a privileged location within the dwelling ring or by a prominently located grave. Either manifestation of supra-household decision making was associated with unusual quantities or types of goods, including nonlocal items. INTEGRATION OF MODELS AND HYPOTHESES The two sets of models and the single set of hypotheses are designed so that their implementation follows a staged approach. The nature of each village component’s community pattern is revealed through addressing the archaeological correlates of the ¤rst set of models. Then, application of the second set of models for each village component will suggest the nature and types of social groups that may have once been present and the various social, economic, or political factors that might have in®uenced village layouts. Only at that point will it be appropriate to interpret each component’s community pattern and social structure to ascertain whether village social organizations were evident in the spatial structure of village sites according to geometric models. Veri¤cation of the two sets of models may suggest that, at some sites, one factor fostering social changes was the tension generated by attempts to impose and maintain geometric order in a village’s layout, beginning at its initial establishment. For example, in some village settlements, individual households may have intruded on the central social space set aside for the community—its plaza—and constructed new dwellings or placed features within this space as their individual social group expanded. Formal layouts would have been bal-

Models and Hypotheses of Community Organization / 85 anced against the reality of living in a dynamic community, where individuals and social groups sometimes acted at odds. The hypotheses are designed to foster intercommunity comparisons among different village components. Although the number of securely dated components in the Allegheny Mountains region remains relatively small, application of the hypotheses may show that social complexity increased throughout the local developmental sequence. Earlier village components in the region likely consisted of autonomous and redundant households, because the earliest village sites apparently represented the integration of previously dispersed hamlets. As villagers adjusted to living in communities and the requirements of maize-based horticulture, they would have developed social mechanisms intended to maximize their competitive advantage over exploiting limited arable land. These social mechanisms may have taken the form of formal corporate social groups. Villagers would have also developed social mechanisms such as sodality structures that were designed to enhance integration and minimize tensions and other con®icts within a village community, because some aspects of a maize-based lifestyle—such as land clearing and mutual defense—were enhanced by communal cooperation.

6 Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches

This chapter begins with a discussion of data sources used to address the models and hypotheses presented in Chapter 5. A particular emphasis is placed in this ¤rst section on the nature and quality of data from village components recovered during depression-era federal relief excavations in the Allegheny Mountains region. Next, we consider major variable groups that form the core of the analyses. Finally, methods and analytical approaches used for each village component are reviewed. Each village component’s analysis began with a visual inspection of its layout. A new technique employed in this study for estimating the number of occupants within a dwelling is described. A separate consideration of graves follows because analysis of mortuary data can assist in the interpretation of village social organizations. Finally, the primary analytical approaches applied to each village component are reviewed. These include four intrasite spatial analytical techniques and approaches adapted from the statistical analysis of circular data. Successfully tackling the models and hypotheses set forth in Chapter 5 must rely on the ability to recognize spatial patterns of a particular sort—patterns that are expressly geometric in character. Pattern recognition in spatial relationships is only one step—albeit a critical one—in the efforts required to transform the static archaeological record into an understanding of past social organizations at ring-shaped village components. The analytical approaches selected or designed to accomplish this goal use the disparate elements recovered from the remains of village sites to describe, de¤ne, and distinguish spatial patterning in village layouts and thus aid the delineation of a village component’s geometric model(s). Further, these analytical approaches provide objective and quanti¤able ways of depicting and interpreting village community patterns.

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 87 SOURCES FOR DATA USED IN THIS STUDY There are few Monongahela tradition village sites outside the Allegheny Mountains region that have had their layouts completely—or nearly completely— exposed. For this reason alone, Allegheny Mountains region village sites are a critical resource for examining the spatial aspects of village patterning and whether this patterning can be linked to past village social organizations. The data analyzed in this study come from three primary sources: village sites excavated by the Somerset County Relief Excavations (SCRE); compliance excavations around Meyersdale, Pennsylvania; and Monongahela tradition sites reported in published and unpublished sources. The greatest number of components with the broadest exposure of community patterns is from SCREinvestigated sites. This is why any serious analysis of Monongahela tradition community patterns must always turn its attention toward sites excavated more than six decades ago. SCRE-Investigated Village Sites Data on village sites recovered from the SCRE investigations have been underutilized, unused, or misinterpreted owing to an incomplete understanding of their potential and limitations. The quality, limitations, and research potential of these data have been thoroughly explored (Means 1999a, 1999b, 2000a, 2000b, 2000c, 2000d, 2001, 2002a, 2002b, 2002c, 2003, 2006a, 2006b; Means and Galke 2004; Means et al. 1998). The ¤eld methodology employed during the SCRE, their data-recording procedures, and the quality of extant ¤eld data have been assessed (Means 1998a, 2000b, 2002b). The strong ¤eld methodology employed by the depression-era SCRE differs little from techniques employed in current Cultural Resource Management (CRM) projects in Pennsylvania. This similarity in ¤eld techniques eased the integration of data from the past and the present into the analyses of village spatial and social organizations. One important insight into the usefulness of information gathered by the SCRE was that provenience data for architectural and nonarchitectural features, which were perceived by some as confused at best, were recorded following surveying procedures, not as Cartesian grid coordinates (Means 1998a:53). This should not be too surprising, considering that the principal SCRE ¤eld director was a civil engineer (Means 2000b, 2000c). Provenience data could be and were converted into more analytically manageable grid coordinates using basic trigonometry (Means 2002b). These research efforts demonstrated that the relief excavations were generally conducted in a systematic fashion (Means 1998a, 2002b). It is their systematic nature that enabled relief excavation data to be analyzed to their fullest research potential. Brown (1981:65) pointed out that systematic

88 / Chapter 6 observations and collections of artifacts and ¤eld data, even if not conducted following modern standards and procedures, can have their own integrity. Provenience data and information on feature types and their contents have been used to assess various aspects of Allegheny Mountains region village organization (Means 1998a, 1999a, 2000a, 2000b, 2001, 2002a, 2002b, 2002c). SCRE ¤eld data are particularly strong in presenting the exact locations of architectural elements and nonarchitectural features, in providing the basic dimensions of all nonarchitectural features, and in the recording of burial feature data. This body of data allowed the community organization of SCREinvestigated village sites to be assessed independently of unpublished site maps and brief published site reports, which has not been possible in the past. The ability to assess this body of data independently of previous descriptions is critical. Prior descriptions of SCRE-investigated village sites are interpretations of archaeological data viewed through the eyes of 1930s archaeologists rather than an unbiased reporting of data. A review of ¤eld data reveals that some of the interpretations gave an erroneous, misleading, or incomplete description of what was actually recovered archaeologically at the different village sites (Means 1998a, 2002b). One major limitation on the use of SCRE data is that artifact collections are incomplete and scattered (see Table 1). Only those collections at The State Museum of Pennsylvania (TSMP) and held by the Somerset County Archaeological Society (SCAS) and its president were examined in detail. Collections from the Carnegie Museum of Natural History (CMNH) were examined only cursorily because funding issues at the institution restricted access to their collections after samples were selected by this researcher for AMS dating. Another signi¤cant limitation of SCRE data was that no radiocarbon assays were available for these sites prior to my recent research efforts because they were excavated before the advent of radiocarbon dating. Radiocarbon assays are now available for many SCRE village components, as discussed in Chapter 2 (see also Means 2005a, 2005b, 2005c, 2006a; Means and Galke 2004). Sites Investigated as Part of the Meyersdale Bypass Project The second major data source was obtained from CRM excavations in 1993 to 1996 in the vicinity of Meyersdale (Means 1998b, 2002c; Means et al. 1998). Petenbrink 1, a village site containing two discrete components, was excavated as part of the Meyersdale Bypass Project (Boyd et al. 1998). Only the ¤rst component at this site was completely exposed. Other Excavated Village Sites in the Allegheny Mountains Region Excluding village sites investigated by SCRE and the Meyersdale Bypass Project, only two other village sites have been excavated in the Allegheny Moun-

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 89 tains region: Quemahoning/Alwine and Gnagey 3 (George 1983a, 1983b). No detailed reporting is available for Quemahoning/Alwine, and it is not considered further in this work. Investigations at Gnagey 3 uncovered the site fully, revealing two overlapping village components (George 1983a). Correspondence and discussions with Richard George clari¤ed relevant aspects of the published monograph and the unpublished village site map. New radiocarbon assays were obtained from Gnagey 3 as part of this current study and clari¤ed the site’s previously confusing occupational history (Means 2002c, 2003, 2005a, 2006a). VARIABLES, METHODS, AND ANALYTICAL APPROACHES This section begins with a discussion of ¤ve major variable groups selected to analyze and interpret ring-shaped village spatial and social organizations. While these were developed with Monongahela tradition villages in mind, these major variable groups can readily be extended to ring-shaped settlements located elsewhere in the Eastern Woodlands and beyond. Standard statistical techniques were also used where appropriate throughout this study, with an emphasis on descriptive statistics and graphical techniques associated with exploratory data analysis. Variables The ¤ve major variable groups selected for this study consist of overall village data and locational information; architectural elements; nonarchitectural features; spaces de¤ned by architectural elements; and material culture. Although these variable groups are generally described independently of one another in this section, their actual integration into the analyses of each village component recognizes that some or all signi¤cant spatial patterning depends on the “intrasite spatial relations among artifacts and features of the same or different classes, whether classes be functional or stylistic in nature” (Carr 1982:1). These intrasite relations are expected to re®ect that an underlying geometric model was responsible for some or all aspects of a ring-shaped village’s community pattern. Variable Group 1: Overall Village Data and Locational Information. The ¤rst major variable group is concerned with the overall nature of speci¤c village components. The total area, shape, geometric center, and orientation of each village component are measured to determine how these attributes relate to various aspects of a speci¤c village’s layout and for comparison with other village components. Total village area is important for assessing cultural variability and change between village components. Without knowing the overall size of a village site, for example, one cannot assess the central importance that its plaza might have had in village society and whether the plaza’s share of total

90 / Chapter 6 settlement space within the region changed over time. A village component’s overall orientation will be examined because it may have resulted from the spatial manifestation of a dual organization. Topographic and environmental factors are evaluated to see whether the physical landscape placed limitations on settlement layout or whether a preconceived village layout was achieved even when topographic constraints existed. Variable Group 2: Architectural Elements. Architectural remains at Monongahela tradition village sites include post-enclosed features, palisade walls, and dwellings. Post-enclosed features are generally de¤ned as storage features. Their number and distribution within a village component may indicate the nature of economic relationships that once existed within a community. A post-enclosed feature attached to a dwelling implies greater private control over storage than a freestanding post-enclosed feature that has a more generalized location within a component’s dwelling ring. The number and kind of post-enclosed features associated with a speci¤c dwelling or within discrete dwelling clusters may have re®ected economic and political differences that might also have been evident in the position of a dwelling or dwelling cluster within a village’s occupation zone. Most Monongahela tradition village components in the Allegheny Mountains region were enclosed by palisades. The presence or absence of a palisade certainly has implications for a village component’s community pattern. If present, a palisade would likely have constrained the distribution of some activities that took place within a village component, particularly those associated with concentric or radial patterning. Dwellings—both their locations within village sites and their sizes—are expected to be one of the strongest indicators of community patterns. After all, a ring of dwellings around a central open area de¤nes a ring-shaped settlement and minimally demonstrates that a generalized concentric model in®uenced the con¤guration of dwellings. Dwellings are typically the largest single structural element created within a village settlement, are frequently imbued with ideological, economic and social signi¤cance, and act as a physical anchor for a social group in some societies (Gillespie 2000a, 2000b; Kuper 1993). The con¤guration of dwellings within a ring-shaped village site may have represented a relatively permanent structural pose around which other structural poses and activities were organized. Dwellings can prove integral for delineating a village component’s geometric patterning, either in how they themselves are con¤gured or in how they in®uenced the con¤guration of other village elements. Dwellings that were evenly spaced within a village component may indicate the presence of autonomous households. If dwellings formed two or more clusters, it would indicate either a diametric or a circumferential community pattern, possibly corresponding

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 91 to the presence of a dual organization or discrete corporate social groups that localized within a component’s occupation zone. Yellen’s and Portnoy’s ring models determine community patterning partly based on where activities took place relative to dwellings. The placement of dwellings or dwelling clusters within a ring-shaped village’s occupation zone may re®ect economic, political, or social distinctions. Dwelling size, measured in terms of ®oor area, can enhance our understanding of village social organizations. Unusually large dwellings within a village component might have been a place where sodality organizations localized. Following a method developed later in this chapter, the number of people occupying each dwelling at a village component was estimated from the dwelling’s ®oor area. These data usefully distinguished whether dwellings or dwelling clusters were inhabited by nuclear families or larger social groups. The size of social groups represented by dwelling clusters—if present—was determined from population estimates. Variable Group 3: Nonarchitectural Features. Geometric models can be apparent in the distribution of nonarchitectural feature classes, either in conjunction with or independently of models in®uencing the distribution of dwellings. Although Dunnell’s radial model was explicitly formulated to consider how a feature’s function might have in®uenced its location within a ring-shaped village site, any of the geometric models considered in this work could have in®uenced the spatial distribution of features divided into functional classes at Monongahela tradition village sites. Each nonarchitectural feature will have its location with respect to architecturally de¤ned space recorded, as indicated in Variable Group 4. This will help evaluate these feature locations in terms of Yellen’s and Portnoy’s ring models, particularly with respect to the placement of activities relative to dwellings. Some nonarchitectural features are assigned to broad functional categories based on their contents and morphology. Hearths, for example, contained burned rocks in situ, whereas graves contained human remains or had evidence that they once contained human remains. Other nonarchitectural features could not be readily assigned to functional features classes and instead are categorized according to shape and dimensional attributes into various categories, e.g., small and large round pits and small and large oval pits. Graves have the greatest numbers of possible attributes for this variable group. Potentially, graves can indicate several dimensions of village social organization, and these could appear according to various geometric models. These dimensions are elaborated in a section on mortuary analyses. Variable Group 4: Spaces De¤ned by Architectural Elements. Variable Group 4 consists of all spaces de¤ned by, but not within, architectural elements. With some notable exceptions, the largest space de¤ned by architectural elements

92 / Chapter 6 within an Allegheny Mountains region village component was its plaza. This plaza was generally a major factor in structuring a village’s community pattern according to geometric models. Most hypotheses related to community patterning are concentric or radial in nature and involve examining village elements relative to a plaza’s geometric center. The size of a plaza is expected to have directly correlated to either overall village size or total number of villagers. Determining the geometric center of a plaza enables the various architectural elements and nonarchitectural features to be related in terms of proximity to the central plaza, whose boundaries may not be well de¤ned. Other than the central plaza, the majority of settlement space within a village site was generally distributed unevenly and as fairly small spaces between adjacent dwellings or between dwellings and the surrounding palisade. These spaces are dif¤cult to de¤ne and quantify, so the spacing between dwellings is used as a proxy measure for characterizing the size and distribution of these smaller spaces. The spacing between dwellings also serves as an indicator of the degree of crowding within a village settlement and of the strength of social and economic ties between households or larger village social organizations. Variable Group 5: Material Culture. Architectural elements, features, and the social spaces de¤ned by architectural elements are the most visible manifestations of a village’s community pattern. More subtle but still signi¤cant patterning is anticipated in the spatial distribution of broadly de¤ned artifact classes at a village component. Artifactual distribution patterns are examined to determine whether signi¤cant patterning was present within each component that re®ected underlying geometric models or that potentially correlated with speci¤c village social organizations. A village component’s underlying geometric model(s) could have in®uenced patterning in the distribution of artifact classes, either singularly or in some combination. Particular attention is directed in this work toward the mutual spatial congruence and interrelations between two or more classes of artifacts, which ethnoarchaeological studies have shown could indicate discrete activity areas (Whallon 1984:245). Delineating such areas is an important stage in investigating geometric patterning at village components, particularly patterning related to Yellen’s and Portnoy’s ring models. Both models stress that an activity’s social nature determines its placement within a given radial band oriented around the settlement’s center. A word of caution is warranted here. With the exception of material recovered from graves, artifacts from most feature contexts at Allegheny Mountains region village components likely represent secondary deposits, possibly resulting from multiple activities that occurred within the feature’s “catchment” area—i.e., those activities that occurred near the feature and whose detritus was swept into the feature. Those spaces de¤ned by a

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 93 small number of dwellings and with restricted access—such as between two structures—are expected to have been more private activity areas, whereas those spaces de¤ned by a large number of dwellings with less restricted access— such as the plaza—are more likely to have been public/communal areas. Because the goals of this study can be accomplished through a relatively coarse level of pattern recognition, most material remains from the Monongahela tradition village sites are divided into fairly broad functional categories rather than described in detail. This approach is certainly necessary for those sites whose material remains are known primarily from artifact catalogs, ¤eld notes, or other sources. Some functionally discrete spatial patterning is anticipated to be geometric in nature, perhaps forming functionally distinct radial bands or clusters, with the latter possibly indicating discrete social groups, such as households or larger corporate social groups. The major artifact categories employed in this study include tools and debris, which are further separated along dimensions related to raw material and manufacturing technique. Thus, tools are divided into bone tools, chipped stone tools, and groundstone tools, whereas debris generally consists of chipped stone debitage and unworked faunal remains. Chipped stone tools are considered in terms of established typologies where possible (Justice 1987). Some artifact classes either occur in very small quantities and thus are not incorporated into the intrasite spatial analyses, or were recovered almost exclusively from atypical contexts. For example, bird bone and shell beads were found largely in mortuary contexts and, even then, usually in small quantities. One aspect of material culture has almost exclusively captured the attention of most Monongahela tradition researchers: ceramic vessels. These studies are generally nonspatial in character, have emphasized de¤ning types on an ad hoc basis, and are still a major tool used to temporally order sites. Some Monongahela tradition ceramic vessel types are considered to have had a region-wide distribution, whereas others are thought to have been more restricted temporally and spatially. Ceramic vessel fragments from the Allegheny Mountains region are typically assigned to the Somerset Phase in the literature, which includes limestone-tempered vessels with various surface and rim treatments (George 1983a; Means 2003). However, this work abandons Monongahela tradition ceramic vessel “types” as ineffective and misleading constructs for pursuing variation that may be of anthropological interest, such as intrasite patterning in the archaeological record. Monongahela tradition ceramic types are an abstraction, and, when they were formulated, subtleties in variation necessarily were ignored that could re®ect spatial or temporal dimensions. Nuances that might be buried within a broadly de¤ned type could indicate spatially discrete social groups occurring at different scales within a village site. In implementing this work’s models, the

94 / Chapter 6 strongest case for identifying spatial patterning at varying levels—and for inferring the types of social organizations these patterns may have represented— is made because normative types are eschewed and attention is turned to attribute-based analytical classes. Analytical classes can be rede¤ned as needed, because attributes can be combined, separated, or ignored and thus shaped to suit each individual analysis (Lyman et al. 1997:5). This approach can also be more readily extended to ring-shaped settlements not associated with the Monongahela tradition. A few major attributes account for most dimensions of variation evident within Allegheny Mountains region ceramics. These major attributes are tempering agent (commonly limestone in this region), exterior surface treatment (generally cordmarked or plain), and, more rarely, decoration on the bodies and rims of ceramic vessels (including incised lines and impressions made with plain or cordwrapped dowels). These attributes are considered singularly or together, potentially appearing as discrete functional or stylistic artifact classes. The differential distribution of ceramic attributes could exhibit radial patterning or form two or more spatially discrete clusters—as shown at the Mayo (Dunnell 1983) and SunWatch (Cook and Sunderhaus 1999) sites. In some cases, these differential distributions—if present—could indicate functional variation that has a spatial component within the site. For example, different ceramic tempering agents or vessel surface treatments can correlate to different vessel functions, such as cooking or storage (P. Rice 1987:226–232; Sinopoli 1991:12). Thus, the distribution of plain and cordmarked ceramics within a site could suggest functional variation that had a spatial component, which in turn might have appeared according to one or more geometric models. Spatially discrete clusters of ceramic attributes also could correlate to discrete social groups, including dual social divisions like moieties or corporate social groups along the lines of lineages, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. This is particularly the case if the ceramic attributes forming clusters were stylistic rather than functional in nature. Decorative elements are not integral to the functions of ceramic vessels and can represent intentional choices made on the parts of individual potters—perhaps from a culturally limited lexicon associated with a speci¤c social group (Sinopoli 1991:119–121, 167–169). Other decorative elements found on ceramic vessels are unconscious techniques learned by the potter as a member of a particular social group. This latter situation has been explored at considerable length with respect to cordage-twist patterns on cordmarked pottery. Cordage-twist patterns represent the impressions of two-ply cords on vessel exteriors (and sometimes interiors as well). These patterns are potentially one of the strongest tools for elucidating village social organizations (Carr and Maslowski 1995; Maslowski 1984). Cordage impressions are produced from cords manufactured by spinning ¤laments in one of two directions, resulting

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 95 in an S- or a Z-twist impression (Carr and Maslowski 1995:299). Examination of spatial and temporal patterning in the distribution of cordage-twist impressions can allow one to study social interaction within learning pools, population migration or stability, and population replacement, among other topics (Carr and Maslowski 1995:315). Cordage-twist patterns forming two discrete clusters—ideally one largely Stwist and the other predominately Z-twist—would indicate diametric patterning that might have resulted from the presence of a dual social organization, such as a moiety. More than two discrete clusters having some combination of S-twist and Z-twist cordage impressions would represent circumferential patterning and possibly the presence of corporate social groups along the lines of a lineage, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. Methods and Analytical Approaches Visual Inspection of Village Site Layouts. If it is the sole or primary analytical tool employed, visual inspection of site layouts can result in subjective and misleading interpretations of village community organization. However, visual inspection of site layouts is an important tool employed at various stages of the subsequent analyses. Here, analyses of each village component begin with a visual inspection of its layout. Environmental and topographic factors that might have in®uenced village layouts are considered at this point. At this initial stage, all nonarchitectural elements are related to the type of social space within which they were located, e.g., within the plaza, within dwellings, between dwellings, and between dwellings and the palisade. This mapping of nonarchitectural features to different social spaces is important for evaluating spatial patterning with respect to certain geometric models, such as the diametric model and the potential division of a site into a dual social organization, or Portnoy’s ring model and its division of radial patterning into front and back regions. Measuring Characteristics of Village Elements Using CAD Software. Computerassisted design (CAD) software is used to measure the areas of various spaces created by the distribution of architectural elements, including the ®oor area of each dwelling, the area of the plaza, and the total village space—usually demarcated by an encircling palisade. The same CAD program is used to determine the geometric centers of each entire village component and their respective plazas, as well as to measure the distances between dwellings. It is important to keep in mind that a two-dimensional map of a village layout depicts what was once a three-dimensional village settlement, where architecture played a role in shaping interaction between villagers. As Fritz (1978:40) noted, “One moves toward, around, through architecture and in so doing experiences changing morphologies and relationships.” How dwellings cluster—i.e., how far apart they were placed by villagers—

96 / Chapter 6 can re®ect different geometric patterning, such as diametric or circumferential, and also act as a measure of past social interactions. In this work, the distance between a dwelling and its ¤rst “adjacent” neighbor is always measured as the shortest distance between adjacent dwellings. Because ring-shaped villages are planned according to a circular to oval model, most dwellings are placed in reference to other dwellings located along the circumference of a circle or oval. Ideally, a dwelling’s second adjacent neighbor is measured along the circumference of the occupation zone, thus re®ecting more accurately how dwellings were placed with respect to one another. These distances were measured in part to examine issues relating to crowding within the settlement and also as an additional way to examine potential social ties within village sites. Estimating Population. The nature of geometric patterning between village elements and what social groups might have been represented at a village component cannot be understood simply by studying dwelling spacing and determining whether dwellings formed clusters. Variation in dwelling size must be examined as well, because dwelling size is related in some fashion to the number of individuals who lived within a given household. Dwelling size also can in®uence patterning in the relationship between architectural elements and nonarchitectural features (Dore 1996:248). Various techniques and formulae for determining population size from dwelling ®oor area alone or in relation to total village space are prevalent in the archaeological literature (Casselberry 1974; Cook and Heizer 1968; Curet 1998; De Rocke 1983; Hatch and Bondar 2001; LeBlanc 1971; Naroll 1962; Yellen 1977). In some cases, the ratio of total dwelling area to total settlement area has been used as a surrogate for population size and to compare relative population size between different village sites (Cook and Heizer 1968), including for Monongahela tradition village sites (Hatch and Bondar 2001). This procedure is considered problematic, because the relationship between total dwelling area and total settlement area depends not simply on the number of individuals within a village but also on the types of social groups present and the amount of social interaction, site shape (linear versus circular), and surrounding environment (grasslands versus forests), among other factors (Curet 1998:361). Because a review of ethnohistoric sources revealed a dearth of information that could be used to directly estimate population at Monongahela tradition village sites, the relevant literature was examined for approaches that estimated population based on dwelling ®oor area. Estimates based on dwelling ®oor area allow the size of discrete groups within village sites to be more closely estimated than global indices designed to ¤nd the population of a site as a whole. Two approaches to estimating population from dwelling ®oor area commonly employed by archaeologists were evaluated to determine whether either was more suitable to meet this goal: one advocated by Naroll (1962) and another formulated by Cook and Heizer (1968).

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 97 Naroll (1962:587–588) argued that each person required roughly 10 m2 of dwelling ®oor area. LeBlanc (1971:211) cautioned that Naroll’s rough estimate is viable only if nondwelling roofed areas are excluded from the analysis. Other archaeologists contend that Naroll’s formula for determining the number of people per dwelling ®oor area is much too conservative, leading to underestimation of the actual number of occupants in each dwelling (Custer et al. 1995:61). An alternative formula for estimating population was developed by Cook and Heizer (1968). They argued that—based on ethnohistoric data from California— there was a close correlation between ®oor space and population. For dwellings with 11.15 m2 or smaller ®oor areas, they found that each person required approximately 1.86 m2 of space. Thus, a dwelling with a 11.15 m2 ®oor area was occupied by 6 individuals. For dwellings with ®oor areas greater than 11.15 m2, each additional person above 6 individuals required 9.29 m2 of space. Signi¤cantly different interpretations of village social organizations could be generated based on the application of Naroll’s or Cook and Heizer’s formulae. Is there a basis for preferring Cook and Heizer’s formula over Naroll’s—or even testing the appropriateness of either approach? As noted in Chapter 4, Yellen suggested that dwelling size correlated to the number of individuals inhabiting that dwelling because individuals placed their beds along the inside perimeter of their dwellings. There is limited ethnohistoric evidence to suggest that this was the case for curvilinear dwellings in the Eastern Woodlands, such as those found at Monongahela tradition villages (Nabokov and Easton 1989:60; Sturtevant 1975). Following from this observation, a new indicator was formulated to estimate the number of individuals who inhabited a dwelling based on the length of its perimeter. Several factors likely in®uenced how much of a dwelling’s perimeter individuals would have occupied: (1) the entrance(s) to the dwelling would have made a segment of the perimeter unavailable for beds; (2) a segment of the perimeter may have been used for storage or other purposes; (3) there may have been some spacing between the foot of one bed and the head of the next, although this was not true for the ethnohistoric case documented by Sturtevant (1975); and (4) some individuals likely shared a bed, either adults or their children. Stature estimates derived from skeletal remains recovered at Monongahela tradition village sites were used to estimate how much of the perimeter each individual would have occupied. A study of 65 individuals by Sciuli et al. (1997) determined that among Monongahela tradition populations, males averaged 162.4 ± 5.4 centimeters in height and females averaged 151.7 ± 6.9 centimeters in height. Drawing upon the maximum height for males, 1.68 meters of perimeter per person seemed a reasonable amount of space that an individual would have required for sleeping. The population estimation consisted of measuring the perimeter of each dwelling and dividing by 1.68 meters to estimate

98 / Chapter 6 the number of occupants within a dwelling. This measure could underestimate the number of individuals in a Monongahela tradition dwelling because most individuals would have been shorter than 1.68 meters. However, this underestimation should account for those sections of a dwelling’s perimeter that were used for other purposes, such as storage or entrance locations. Initially, the new indicator was developed simply to ascertain whether Naroll’s or Cook and Heizer’s approach was a more suitable technique for estimating the number of occupants in a dwelling at a Monongahela tradition village component. The favorable ¤nding resulting from the comparison to Naroll’s and Cook and Heizer’s methods encouraged the adoption of the perimeter estimation method in this work for determining the number of individuals that once occupied a Monongahela tradition dwelling (for further discussion, see Means 2006b). Mortuary Analyses. Mortuary remains can exhibit considerable variation according to a broad set of potentially signi¤cant attributes: positioning and placement of the deceased within the grave, grave orientation, grave furniture, grave architecture, and variation in where graves were placed within a village site. The disposal of a community’s mature deceased is an example of one activity that depended as much or more on interaction at the community or societal level than on individual actions at the household level. Mortuary practices are intended not simply to handle the physical reality of a corpse but to af¤rm and maintain the organization of a community upon the loss of a member (Braun 1979:66; Durkheim 1915; Metcalf and Huntington 1991). Both philosophical-religious beliefs and social factors in®uence the treatment a community accords their dead (Carr 1995; Gruber 1971). Mortuary practices are meaningfully constituted (Carr 1995; Hodder 1982:10), re®ect the beliefs of the community as a whole or some signi¤cant subset of the community, and are not independently created on the household level. Graves can re®ect not only vertical and horizontal dimensions of variation within a village society but also other factors (Carr 1995). Mortuary data can be used to determine whether the status positions one might expect for groups subsumed in the Monongahela tradition, such as village headmen, shamans, or war leaders, or perhaps the head of an economically successful corporate group or a Lévi-Straussian house, were present. The location of individual graves and formal demarcation of cemeteries can indicate the horizontal social position of the deceased, including membership in a lineal descent group, or clan (Carr 1995:191; Goldstein 1981:61). The number of discrete clusters or groups of dwellings within a community could correlate with either the number of formal cemeteries or with the number of different burial classes, as determined from a constellation of burial attributes. Some have argued that the placement of graves within or adjacent to structures can indicate an attempt by members

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 99 of a Lévi-Straussian house to maintain continuity of the corporate social group across generations (Gillespie 2000a:19). This work examines the orientation of all graves where suf¤cient information exists to do so. Based on an analysis of grave orientations at a Shenks Ferry site, Gruber (1971) concluded that an individual’s grave was aligned with respect to the sun’s apparent location on the horizon on the day of its interment, with the “head” end of the grave nearest the sun. A preliminary analysis of mortuary data from the Allegheny Mountains region showed that most graves were oriented in an easterly direction, seemingly supporting Gruber’s study. However, a substantial minority of graves were not oriented toward the east, indicating the in®uence of other cultural factors on grave orientation (Means 1999b). Possibly, if graves that cluster share a particular orientation, this may re®ect membership in some village social organization and not simply orientation toward the rising sun on the day of interment. Energy expenditure in the construction of graves is often an indicator of a deceased’s vertical social position but also could re®ect other mortuary dimensions as well (Carr 1995:165). Energy expenditure is also often related to age, partly because age contributes to a person’s vertical social position (Carr 1995: 153, 169). At Allegheny Mountains region village sites, energy expenditure in grave construction was generally minimal, although some graves were covered or lined with large stones (Means 1999b). In the past, grave goods were among the items often used by archaeologists to examine the social role and status of the deceased (see Davis 1984 for a Monongahela tradition example). Now, a more balanced emphasis is placed on the philosophical-religious nature of grave goods (or furniture), as well as their function in marking status. Carr (1995:153) found that beliefs about the soul, afterlife, and a soul’s journey in®uenced whether grave goods were included, as well as their nature. Gender and vertical social position also in®uenced an individual’s grave goods (Carr 1995:153), with the latter often determining the quantity of goods (Carr 1995:169). The personal identity of the deceased was often mirrored in the kinds of grave goods included with their interment (Carr 1995:169). Pearson (2001:85) noted that grave goods are gift exchanges with the dead. These goods were either possessions of the deceased or gifts to the dead made by mourners (Pearson 2001:7). In many cases, there exists a fair amount of ambiguity in how and to what extent mortuary data were recorded at SCRE sites (Means 2006a). Thus, mortuary practices at Allegheny Mountains region village sites are necessarily reviewed at a fairly coarse level. Despite these issues, mortuary remains should aid with the delineation of geometric patterning at village components and with inferring the types of village social organizations that might have been present.

100 / Chapter 6 Intrasite Spatial Analytical Techniques. Some aspects of patterning in village elements—such as graves—may be evident in visual inspection of a site’s layout. Other patterning—including that of a geometric nature—is pro¤tably elucidated using intrasite spatial analytical techniques. Intrasite spatial patterning can be described as the differential spatial distribution of archaeological items within a minimally dated horizon of an archaeological site (Ferring 1984:116)— in this case individual village components. Intrasite spatial analytical techniques can be used to recognize patterning of elements of a village site, particularly whether they are arranged in a clustered, random, or aligned fashion (Carr 1985:304). Certainly, some geometric patterning—including diametric or circumferential patterning—will be more readily evident in this study if one or more elements at a village component clustered. Similarly, inferences on the nature of social groups once present at a village component—including independent households or larger corporate social groups—will draw upon whether or not village elements clustered, especially dwellings and graves. A variety of intrasite spatial analytical techniques modi¤ed or developed for speci¤c use in archaeology (Blankholm 1991; Carr 1985; Kintigh 1990) were used to determine whether there are signi¤cant relationships in the spatial distributions of, and associations between, architectural elements, nonarchitectural features, and artifacts within a village component. Although intrasite analytical techniques have more commonly been applied to the distribution of artifacts, they can readily be extended to the study of architectural elements and nonarchitectural features as well. Architectural elements at Monongahela tradition village sites are largely represented by the patterned distribution of postholes that can be treated as point data. Most nonarchitectural features at Monongahela tradition village sites are relatively small given the scale of the analyses—the village component—and are represented in the spatial analyses by the location of their geometric centers. Four major spatial analytical techniques are implemented in this study of village spatial layouts: nearest neighbor analysis, coef¤cient of polythetic association, pure locational clustering, and unconstrained clustering. Limited to coordinate data, the nearest neighbor coef¤cient is a global index; it shows the patterning of an entire distribution rather than of clusters within the distribution (Kintigh 1990:168). Nearest neighbor analysis has proven problematic in application because it is sensitive to boundary problems (Blankholm 1991:109– 112). At ¤rst glance, boundary problems would not seem to be an issue for most Monongahela tradition village sites, because their boundaries were often demarcated by palisade lines. However, not all Monongahela tradition village sites were palisaded, and, even when they were, not all archaeological remains were con¤ned within the palisade walls. Nonetheless, nearest neighbor analysis can be used effectively, if indirectly, to describe the distribution of archaeological remains at village sites.

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 101 Kintigh argued that nearest neighbor analysis can be used to examine a distribution’s relative patterning. Speci¤cally, one can calculate the nearest neighbor coef¤cients for each artifact class and form ratios between the nearest neighbor coef¤cient of two different artifact classes. These are arranged into a matrix of between-class nearest neighbor coef¤cients. One can then use these ratios to evaluate the relative aggregation or segregation of different individual classes within a distribution. The nearest neighbor technique provides one mechanism for interpreting whether artifact classes singularly or together exhibited geometric patterning at ring-shaped village components. Carr’s (1984, 1985) coef¤cient of polythetic association is applied here in a manner akin to that advocated by Blankholm (1991) and Kintigh (1990) for nearest neighbor analysis but without some of the latter technique’s limitations. The strength of Carr’s technique is that it enables the determination not only of which artifact classes within a village component are associated with each other but also which classes are not associated with each other (Carr 1984:196). Calculating the coef¤cient of polythetic association between artifact classes can reveal different arrangements of these items within a village component that potentially correlated with behavioral, social, or ideological differences within a village community. The polythetic nature of the coef¤cient (Carr 1984:196) enables the asymmetrical and symmetrical relationships among artifact classes within a site to be determined. These relationships are useful, for example, in examining whether radial patterning exhibited the speci¤c spatial structure inherent in Portnoy’s ring model. Calculating the coef¤cient of polythetic association may indicate that two artifact classes are generally found together in the same radial band (a symmetrical relationship) either in front or back regions, while two other artifact classes are generally found in separate radial bands (an asymmetrical relationship) with one class in front regions and the other in back regions. Both pure locational clustering and unconstrained clustering are well suited for examining intracommunity patterning in behavioral terms. Pure locational clustering does not provide an index for, or test of, spatial clustering but instead identi¤es spatial clusters. It can identify patterning at several spatial scales (Kintigh 1990:184–190). As applied to the study of village community organization, this technique can highlight whether architectural elements and nonarchitectural features formed discrete clusters that might have represented the archaeological re®ection of corporate groups. The unconstrained clustering approach differs from pure locational analysis because it is free of constraints with respect to cluster size, shape, and density (Kintigh 1990:190). This procedure groups the areas of a site in terms of proportional class composition (Kintigh 1990:190). Ethnoarchaeological research has demonstrated that the relative quantities of artifacts within activity areas are fairly stable and re®ect activities more directly than do absolute quantities

102 / Chapter 6 (Whallon 1984:246). Clusters need not be spatially contiguous, and some may be dominated by a single class (Whallon 1984:245). Approaches Related to the Statistical Analysis of Circular Data. This researcher’s initial instinct when approaching the analysis of SCRE-excavated village sites was to convert all survey coordinates for feature locations into Cartesian grid coordinates, as outlined earlier in this chapter. This step is, in fact, necessary for most mapping software or for archaeological computer programs designed speci¤cally for intrasite spatial analyses. However, traditional intrasite spatial analytical techniques are not suf¤cient in and of themselves for examining the nature of geometric patterning at ring-shaped village settlements. A coordinate system must be considered that re®ects the fact that ring-shaped settlements were designed and organized at least partly according to geometric models with a circular to oval basis. Analyses rooted in a coordinate system based on polar geometry can potentially lead to the recognition of spatial patterning in features, dwellings, or artifacts that might be overlooked if only a standard Cartesian coordinate system was employed. Dunnell (1983) made this observation when he examined the Mayo site. Ring-shaped village settlements are designed around their plazas, whose centers may represent cosmologically signi¤cant locations. Therefore, the geometric center of each village’s plaza will be selected as the origin point for the polar grid within which the component’s locational data will be recast. Transforming locational data from a Cartesian to a polar site grid is a simple and straightforward process using standard trigonometric formulae. When examining ring-shaped village settlements in terms of polar coordinates, the origin should normally equal the center of its plaza. In his study of the ring-shaped Mayo village site, Dunnell (1983) conducted his analysis of spatial patterning along the lines described here by looking at radial patterning from a central point within the village settlement. However, his analysis was limited because he relied solely on conventional linear statistics and thus could not fully realize the analytical potential of examining ringshaped villages in terms of their circular nature. Over the last century, a still somewhat obscure branch of statistics—circular statistics—has developed to deal with the problems and prospects of studying circular (also referred to as directional) data. Circular or directional data share in common the lack of a true zero, because the lowest and highest values are congruent (Jammalamadaka and SenGupta 2001:2). For example, directions have values that range from 0° to 360°, with 0° and 360° representing the same point on a circle. Other circular data include measurements made on a 24-hour clock and the 12-month calendar (Jammalamadaka and SenGupta 2001:6). Upton and Fingleton (1989:207) noted that “the inherent periodicity of circular data brings with it problems of a peculiar na-

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 103 ture that do not occur elsewhere in statistics.” Two examples suf¤ce to illustrate some of the problematical aspects of circular or directional data: (1) the sum of 359° and 2° is properly expressed as 1°; and (2) the average of 1° and 359° is not 180°—due west—as one would expect if the arithmetic mean were used but rather 0°—due east—as one would obtain if the more proper vector mean were used (Upton and Fingleton 1989:207–208). Conventional statistics generally do not work well with circular or directional data because they assume that these data are linear, where the lowest value is farthest from the highest value (Cornell University Of¤ce of Statistical Consulting 2002). But with circular or directional data, as we have seen, the lowest and highest values can be quite close to one another. In addition, there is no natural ranking within circular or directional data, because whether one value is larger or smaller than another depends on where along the circle one chooses the zero origin point and whether observations are made clockwise or counterclockwise from the origin point (Jammalamadaka and SenGupta 2001:2). Circular or directional statistics were developed to handle data whose origin point and sense of rotation—i.e., clockwise or counterclockwise—are essentially arbitrary (Jammalamadaka and SenGupta 2001:2–3). Thus, when approaching circular or directional data, it is useful to recognize that “a circular observation can be regarded as a point on a circle of unit radius, or a unit vector (i.e., a direction). Once an initial direction and an orientation of the circle have been chosen, each circular observation can be speci¤ed by the angle from the initial direction to the point on the circle corresponding to the observation” (Mardia and Jupp 2001:1). Statistical measures and graphical techniques that correspond to more conventional statistics can then be applied to describe and evaluate these data. One can calculate the mean direction—sometimes called the preferred direction—and standard deviation for a set of data (Jammalamadaka and SenGupta 2001:11–12). This information can be combined with graphical techniques—including specialized circular histograms called rose plots or rose diagrams—in an exploratory manner to determine if circular data are uniformly distributed or if they have unimodal or multimodal distributions (Fisher 1993:20–23, 61; Jammalamadaka and SenGupta 2001:15; Mardia and Jupp 2001:4–6). With rose diagrams, as is true of conventional histograms, one has to take care how wide the individual divisions—or bins—are and where along a circle’s circumference one initiates the division of circular data into segments (Fisher 1993:21). As far as this researcher has ascertained, there are few published instances where circular statistics were used to explore archaeological data. Upton and Fingleton (1989:224–225) analyzed Iroquoian longhouse orientations from sites corresponding to four different periods to determine whether they exhibited a

104 / Chapter 6

18. Circular histogram of grave orientations at Gnagey 3.

preferred orientation and if it changed through time. They found no preferred orientation in the two earlier periods and their results were inconclusive for the third period, but the fourth period exhibited a decidedly preferred orientation along a northwest-southeast axis. However, this application was made not by archaeologists but rather by statisticians as a case study designed to illustrate the potential of circular statistics for examining directional data. Banning (2000:29) mentioned that some archaeologists have used circular histograms in their analyses but provided no specifc citations on their use. The lack of archaeological applications of circular statistics is not surprising; even within the statistical literature, circular statistics occupy a somewhat marginal role. Circular statistics generally are not mentioned in standard statistical texts to which archaeologists might refer and certainly are not considered in statistical texts directed at archaeological audiences. However, circular statistics hold great potential for examining patterning in certain classes of archaeological data that are considered to re®ect social customs and beliefs. An obvious application of circular statistics is to the analysis of grave orientations to determine if there is culturally signi¤cant patterning, such as a preferred orientation to the east—the rising sun—as argued by Gruber (1971). An example of a circular histogram used to display grave orientations is provided here (Figure 18). Similar displays of grave orientations are presented in Means (2006a) for Allegheny Mountains region village sites with suf¤cient mortuary remains. Applications of circular statistics to the study of ring-shaped settlements

Data Sources, Variables, and Analytical Approaches / 105

19. Circumferential graph of features by type at Gnagey 3-2.

are not limited to examining the orientations of graves. Exploratory analysis of various data—such as features organized by functional classes—using circular histograms can potentially show circumferential patterning that might otherwise not be readily obvious (see Figure 19 for an example). Examination of ring-shaped settlements in terms of underlying geometric models will be facilitated by this type of exploratory analysis, especially when combined with the radial graphs advocated by Dunnell (1983). One such graphic was shown earlier in Figure 14. Thus, graphical representations of data associated with circular statistical techniques are well suited for ascertaining aspects of geometric patterning in ring-shaped spatial layouts, particularly those related to concentric and circumferential models.

7 Modeling Community Patterning from Select Village Components in the Allegheny Mountains Region

Each Allegheny Mountains region village component is assessed here in terms of the models delineated in Chapter 5. First, each village component is analyzed to determine whether one or more geometric models characterized all or some aspects of its community pattern. Then, the nature and types of social groups are explored, building on the analyses and interpretations of each component’s community pattern. As shown in this chapter, geometric models in®uenced the distribution of at least some material remains at most known regional village sites, as well as spatially ordered village social groups at several components. The analyses of each village component produced a large corpus of results, including numerous graphical displays of data. The full results of these analyses are available in Means (2006a). The village components in this chapter are organized geographically for convenience, paralleling the structure used in Means (2006a). VILLAGE SITES ALONG THE UPPER CASSELMAN RIVER There are four de¤nite village sites located along the Casselman River just downstream from where this river enters Pennsylvania from its headwaters in western Maryland. Three of these sites—Gnagey 3, Petenbrink 1, and Peck 2— have two overlapping village components, whereas the fourth site—Peck 1— consists of a single component that was enlarged twice during its occupation. The various village components range in age from ca. a.d. 1100 to ca. a.d. 1540 (Table 3). All four sites have layouts that were designed independently of their topographic settings. Gnagey 3 During the early to mid-1970s, investigations at Gnagey 3 encountered two superimposed village components (George 1983a). The smaller occupation is

Modeling Community Patterning / 107

completely encompassed within the site’s larger component (Figure 20). Approximately 49 people inhabited the ¤ve dwellings at the smaller component— Gnagey 3-1—and at least 43 people lived in the larger component—Gnagey 3-2 (Table 4). Gnagey 3-1 had a pooled radiocarbon age of 678 ± 23 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1275 to 1387), and Gnagey 3-2 had a pooled radiocarbon age of 615 ± 23 (cal 2 σ a.d. 1296 to 1398). These assays indicate that the two components were separated by a much shorter period than the two centuries proposed by George (1983a). An unusual aspect of Gnagey 3-1 is the lack of a distinct central plaza. With the possible exceptions of Clouse I and Gower I (discussed below), all other completely excavated villages in the Allegheny Mountains region have central plazas. The much smaller number of features associated with Gnagey 3-1 relative to Gnagey 3-2 and community pattern analyses suggest that Gnagey 3-1 was not occupied for long before its inhabitants began recon¤guring their village settlement into Gnagey 3-2 (Means 2001, 2006a). This expansion may have occurred gradually over time or immediately followed reoccupation of this locale

108 / Chapter 7

20. Map of Gnagey 3 with locations of geometrically central features indicated.

after a seasonal or a more extended site abandonment episode. Gnagey 3-2 represents a fairly even expansion outward from the outermost edges of Gnagey 3-1. Located near the geometric center of Gnagey 3 are two features assigned by George (1983a) to the larger component—one a roasting pit and the other a hearth (Figure 20). One can speculate that one or both functioned as an axis mundi for Gnagey 3-1, as well as Gnagey 3-2. When the inhabitants of Gnagey 3-1 restructured their settlement to incorporate a plaza, they apparently used one or both features as their reference point(s). Gnagey 3-1 likely represents a daughter settlement from another village in the vicinity. Continued social and ceremonial ties with the parent village would have mitigated the need for Gnagey 3-1’s inhabitants to incorporate a plaza into their own settlement at its founding. This enabled them to construct a more compact village, reducing the overall labor investment necessary to clear an area for habitation. Labor was likely a precious commodity until the new settlement was fully established and more independent from the parent village. The expanded and recon¤gured settlement more closely adhered to a culturally ideal ring-shaped settlement form. A pure locational clustering analysis indicated that the dwellings at Gnagey 3-1 may have formed two larger clusters, dividing the component into halves.

110 / Chapter 7 Each half included an unusually large structure representing either a multifamily or communal structure and at least one nuclear family dwelling as well. Other than the aforementioned geometrically central hearth and roasting pit, most features at Gnagey 3-1 consisted of trench segments that paralleled the inside of its palisade. Feature data provided few additional indicators that geometric models in®uenced this component’s community pattern. Material remains, notably ceramics, also exhibited little geometric patterning in their distributions. Nearest neighbor analyses and Carr’s index of polythetic association showed that there was little activity differentiation across the component. Unconstrained clustering hinted that there may have been subtle differences in activities at Gnagey 3-1. These activities were largely associated with individual dwellings and did not show the independent in®uence of geometric models on their distribution. The expansion of Gnagey 3-1 into Gnagey 3-2 certainly supports the notion that the true ring-shaped settlement was a cultural ideal for the community that inhabited this locale. The examination of Gnagey 3-2’s community pattern was extremely hampered by the fact that approximately half of its dwelling outlines could not be delineated. The recon¤guration of Gnagey 3-1 into Gnagey 3-2 did not simply add a central plaza that was surrounded by dwellings that apparently housed only nuclear families. Rather, this recon¤guration created signi¤cant social space both in front of and behind Gnagey 3-2’s dwellings. The concentration of features in the space behind the dwellings showed a clear preference for Gnagey 3-2’s inhabitants to perform many activities outside of public view. Thus, Gnagey 3-2 consisted of three concentric zones: its plaza, its ring of dwellings, and a substantial space between its encircling palisade and the ring of dwellings. At Gnagey 3-2, a radial graph showed concentric patterning in most feature classes, with some classes—such as freestanding postenclosed features—directly associated with dwellings. A circumferential graph was multimodal and revealed that freestanding post-enclosed features also exhibited circumferential patterning because many were con¤ned to one mode. Graves were concentrated in another mode, perhaps representing the presence of a formally de¤ned cemetery. Intrasite spatial analyses uncovered patterning in associations between major artifact classes. Nearest neighbor analysis indicated that most major artifact classes were distributed throughout Gnagey 3-2 but that noxious and hazardous refuse was disposed of together. Carr’s index of polythetic association suggested that there were multiple types of associations among different artifact classes of varying strengths, possibly re®ecting discrete activities. Unconstrained clustering analysis revealed that the most common associations among major artifact classes represented general household refuse. Features with general household refuse were closely associated with dwellings and did

Modeling Community Patterning / 111 not appear to display patterning independent of that in®uencing the distribution of dwellings. Pure locational clustering divided features into six clusters that might have represented six discrete multifamily social groups. The incomplete dwelling data render this last observation somewhat tenuous. In general, these analyses supported the conclusion that geometric models exhibited their strongest in®uence on major components of Gnagey 3-2’s community pattern—notably its division into three major concentric zones—and less in®uence on individual activities. Village Geometric Models. Intrasite spatial analyses suggest that Gnagey 3-1 is divided into two large dwelling clusters, indicating that a diametric model may have in®uenced the layout of this component. However, there are limited ways that ¤ve structures can be arranged, and this possible diametric patterning may not indicate the in®uence of a diametric model but rather simply re®ect that the dwellings are grouped in clusters. Certainly, diametric patterning is not re®ected in the distribution of features or artifacts at Gnagey 3-2. Gnagey 3-1’s dwellings are not arranged in a circle, and thus a major archaeological correlate of the radial geometric models is not met. Limited support is present at Gnagey 3-1 for Yellen’s and Portnoy’s expectation that private family activities were organized in a radial fashion with respect to dwellings. Their expectation is not met for a communal or public region on the outer edge of the settlement, and the presence of a communal front region is only tentatively supported. Dunnell’s functional radial model is not supported at all, and evidence for circumferential patterning is weak. The hub-and-spoke model is also not supported for Gnagey 3-1. At Gnagey 3-2, diametric patterning is not evident. The general concentric model is supported for dwellings and most artifacts and features. Missing dwelling data limit an assessment of Yellen’s radial model, but private family activities are generally associated with dwellings. Villagers showed a clear preference for having performed activities behind their dwellings and thus out of public view. This ¤nding is consistent with Portnoy’s model, where the space immediately behind dwellings is devoted to private family activities. The discontinuous trench just inside Gnagey 3-2’s palisade walls ful¤lls Yellen and Portnoy’s expectation of a place for communal trash disposal. And the plaza at Gnagey 3-2 with its two geometrically central features meets Portnoy’s criteria for a communal front region. Dunnell’s functional radial model is supported for features that form overlapping radial bands of functional types. Some evidence for circumferential patterning is evident at Gnagey 3-2. Four large wedges of functional feature classes may have been associated with dwelling clusters that are no longer extant. A stronger case for circumferential patterning is drawn from a cluster of burials, suggesting that one section of the site was vested with greater sacred or ceremonial character than the remainder

112 / Chapter 7 of the site. The hub-and-spoke model is tentatively supported for Gnagey 3-2; radial and circumferential patterning is visible in the distribution of features. Village Social Groups. Each of two dwelling clusters at Gnagey 3-1 apparently represented an extended family or multifamily corporate group. The exact nature of the links within the two dwelling clusters is unclear; fairly wide dwelling spacing within one cluster suggests that these links may have been weak. At Gnagey 3-2, missing dwelling data do not enable a clear determination of whether households remained formally linked or became more autonomous. The two large dwelling clusters at Gnagey 3-1 may represent a dual organization. However, this potential dual organization is not re®ected in spatially distinct artifact clusters or in the distribution of features. There are too many missing dwellings at Gnagey 3-2 to ascertain whether its community may have had a dual organization. Similarly, two unusually large structures at Gnagey 3-1 probably do not re®ect the past presence of sodalities at this component but rather of multifamily structures that were subsequently subdivided into nuclear family structures at Gnagey 3-2. Thus, at Gnagey 3-1 and Gnagey 3-2, there is evidence that nuclear families were organized into multihousehold groups that resided within single large structures or dwelling clusters. The presence of a cemetery at Gnagey 3-2 could indicate a suf¤ciently strong corporate identity that these multihousehold groups represented lineage segments, clans, or LéviStraussian houses. Petenbrink 1 Petenbrink 1 was excavated in the mid-1990s and consists of two overlapping village components: Petenbrink 1-1 and Petenbrink 1-2 (Figure 21) (Means 2006a). The larger component at Petenbrink 1-2 is not an expansion or recon¤guration from Petenbrink 1-1 but rather represents a reoccupation of the general site locale. Petenbrink 1-2 has a pooled age of 796 ± 25 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1208 to 1276) and is a temporally distinct occupation from Petenbrink 1-1, which has a pooled age of 940 ± 23 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1030 to 1155). Petenbrink 1-1 has a simple community plan. Seven nuclear-family dwellings are arrayed around a central plaza that is large relative to the settlement’s overall size. This component had an estimated population of 31 individuals (Table 4). Petenbrink 1-1 is the smallest and oldest village component in the Allegheny Mountains region (Table 3). Although Petenbrink 1-2 is a ring-shaped settlement, Blue Lick Creek (Boyd et al. 1998) destroyed the northern portion of Petenbrink 1-2. The southern, eastern, and western boundaries of Petenbrink 1-2 were not exposed during archaeological investigations. Therefore, the remainder of the discussion of this site emphasizes more speci¤c results from an analysis of Petenbrink 1-1. Unlike most village sites in the region, Petenbrink 1-1 was apparently not

Modeling Community Patterning / 113

21. Map of two components at Petenbrink 1, with Petenbrink 1-1 shown highlighted.

encircled by a palisade; therefore, the outer limits of village social space could not be clearly de¤ned. Only a few pit features were associated with Petenbrink 1-1, including hearths and a possible storage feature attached to one dwelling. Pure locational clustering suggested that there were two dwelling clusters with three dwellings each that represented multifamily groups and an isolated dwelling consisting of a single nuclear family. Because of the simplicity of its layout, certain analyses were not implemented at Petenbrink 1-1. Notably, an unconstrained clustering analysis of Petenbrink 1-1 was not performed. Results from the nearest neighbor analysis and the calculation of Carr’s index of polythetic association were readily applied to a schematic map of Petenbrink 1-1. Both analyses indicated that each dwelling or dwelling cluster had a similar activity structure. Essentially, pit features and the traces of past activities that they contained did not exhibit patterning independent of their associations with dwellings. Village Geometric Models. Concentric patterning is evident on a gross level, because dwellings form a nearly perfect circle centered on the plaza. Features also re®ect a gross degree of concentric patterning. The few features found at Petenbrink 1-1 are directly associated with individual dwellings. These data broadly support the general concentric model, provide limited support for Yellen’s ring model, and provide no support for Portnoy’s ring model or Dunnell’s functional radial model. Some circumferential patterning is evident at Petenbrink 1-1, based on the apparent clustering of dwellings. These dwelling clus-

114 / Chapter 7 ters have similar activity structures. However, given the lack of radial patterning outside of dwellings, the hub-and-spoke model does not account for spatial patterning independent of dwellings. Village Social Groups. Petenbrink 1-1 could have consisted of nuclear and extended family groups. Other forms of village social organizations, such as sodalities and dual organizations, are not evident. As a whole, the settlement at Petenbrink 1-1 may have represented a single lineage, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. Peck 1 Peck 1 was excavated at the end of 1936 into the winter months of 1937 (Augustine 1938d:84). Based on valid pooled radiocarbon assays, Peck 1 dates to 593 ± 15 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1307 to 1405). Peck 1 was expanded twice by its inhabitants (Figure 22). As a consequence of the last expansion episode, Peck 1 has the third largest linear dimensions recorded for an Allegheny Mountains region village (Table 3) (Means 1998a, 2000a). The inner core at Peck 1 had as many as 178 residents, with 65 added in the ¤rst expansion episode and 74 in the second expansion episode (Table 4). Each expansion episode could have represented the entire population of a moderately sized village or at least one major social division within a larger village. In neither expansion episode were dwellings placed within the plaza area around which the initial core of the village was constructed. Rather, labor was expended to extend the palisade—twice. Thus, once the space for the plaza was established, community prohibitions at Peck 1 were suf¤ciently strong to prevent new dwelling construction within the plaza space. This implied that the plaza area was imbued with a fair sense of importance to the community. However, the plaza area did not shift its location to remain central to the village’s layout (Means 2000a). To the community at Peck 1, geometric models were more important for establishing the community and less so for its maintenance—as long as the plaza space remained inviolate. Perhaps community leadership was too weak to maintain enforcement of an ideal geometric model on a dynamic and growing community. Or established social groups may have been reluctant to physically move and rebuild their residences to accommodate the newcomers. While geometric models strongly in®uenced Peck 1’s initial layout, they were less of a factor when the site was expanded. The second expansion episode added a substantial amount of settlement space that was used for activities that did not require a considerable amount of privacy. Radial and circumferential graphs for Peck 1 were adversely in®uenced by the site’s asymmetrical layout. Freestanding post-enclosed features had a narrow distribution and were associated with dwellings adjacent to the plaza whose inhabitants may have had differential access to economic resources. Larger pits tended to be located on

Modeling Community Patterning / 115

22. Map of Peck 1.

the site’s outer margins, perhaps indicating a desire by community members to situate more intrusive activities in less populated and less publicly visible areas. The circumferential graph was distorted in the direction of the last settlement expansion episode. This graph was multimodal, possibly indicating clustering within the settlement that was associated with discrete social groups. Spatial analyses suggested the presence of activity differentiation across the

116 / Chapter 7 site but indicated that there was no spatial segregation of these activities. Nearest neighbor analysis indicated that most major artifact classes were moderately or strongly associated with every other major artifact class. Carr’s index of polythetic association discerned an intriguing pattern: shell-tempered ceramics were segregated somewhat from other artifact classes. This pattern could re®ect community members familiar with a minority or nonlocal potterymaking tradition. Unconstrained clustering supported the notion that a variety of tasks may have been performed throughout Peck 1 but that these activities were not spatially segregated or in®uenced by geometric patterning. Overall, there were few apparent differences in activity structure associated with households or other possible larger social groups, however they were arranged. Pure locational clustering produced ambiguous results due to the uneven expansion episodes. Village Geometric Models. Clear circumferential patterning could not be recognized at Peck 1; therefore, circumferential and hub-and-spoke models could not be assessed. No support for diametric patterning is noted at Peck 1, and the general concentric model is supported if its application is limited to the site’s inner core. Dunnell’s functional radial model suggests than an activity’s obtrusiveness may have in®uenced its location within Peck 1. Individual family activities are generally associated with dwellings as one would expect from Yellen’s ring model. The subtler gradations re®ected in Portnoy’s radial model receive limited support, although the dwelling expansion episodes obscure radial patterning. Village Social Groups. The social groups represented by each expansion episode at Peck 1 were not integrated into the settlement in such a way that a ringshaped village was maintained. Discrete social groups within the village’s inner core may have exerted enough control over settlement space to protect the plaza from dwelling encroachment. Forms of social organization other than dwelling groups—which could have represented discrete lineages, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses—were not clearly present. No dual organization is evident at the site. One unusually large structure in the inner core of Peck 1 could have been a communal structure associated with a sodality. However, the presence of several other large structures at Peck 1 could indicate that all of these were extended or multifamily dwellings. Finally, no clear status distinctions in®uenced village spatial layouts. The families living in the inner core of the village may have had a higher status or simply have been more economically successful because they had resided in the settlement longer. Peck 2 Excavated during the spring of 1937, Peck 2 consisted of two spatially overlapping but temporally discrete village components designated here Peck 2-1 and

Modeling Community Patterning / 117

23. Map of Peck 2, with location of Peck 2-2’s courtyard and its central ceremonial post indicated.

Peck 2-2 (Means 1998a; Means and Galke 2004) (Figure 23). Peck 2-1 is substantially smaller than Peck 2-2 (Table 3) and had fewer resident villagers (Table 4). Peck 2-1 has a pooled radiocarbon age of 891 ± 23 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1044 to 1215), while Peck 2-2 had a pooled radiocarbon age of 367 ± 24 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1450 to 1631). Modern construction obscured portions of Peck 2-1’s community pattern. Peck 2-2 is the second largest Allegheny Mountains region village of known age (Table 3). It also has arguably the most complex community pattern recorded for the region. There were at least 18 dwellings at Peck 2-1 that encircled an open plaza and that were surrounded by a palisade. Peck 2-1’s population exceeded 140 individuals. Additional dwellings at Peck 2-1 with more residents were likely destroyed by construction of a historic racetrack. Certain analyses were not implemented at Peck 2-1 because of the component’s compromised community pattern, including visual inspection of radial and circumferential graphs and nearest neighbor analysis. Carr’s index of polythetic association showed that

118 / Chapter 7 there were generally high degrees of association between major artifact classes. Unconstrained clustering analysis suggested that there was a spatial division of the component into halves. This was further evident in the pure locational clustering analysis of Peck 2-1. A potential cemetery and some other signi¤cant graves could not be de¤nitively assigned to Peck 2-1 or Peck 2-2. These graves were in an area of overlap between the two temporally distinct village components. One grave potentially associated with Peck 2-1 contained the remains of an adult who was interred with 371 Marginella apcina shell beads, a nonlocal shell of marine origin. Two other prominent individuals were interred in separate graves within the same dwelling. Few other graves with associated funerary objects or with unique grave architecture were assigned to Peck 2-1. Status distinctions did not in®uence the distribution of village social groups and their associated material elements. Peck 2-2 was substantially larger than Peck 2-1 with a population ranging from 258 to 275 residents. There were three distinct concentric zones at Peck 2-2: the plaza, the dwelling ring, and a substantial area that was present between the back of dwellings and the encircling palisade. This outer zone was generally devoid of features. The 28 extant dwellings housed from 3 to possibly 20 individuals. Notable at Peck 2-2 are two unusually large dwellings located on opposite sides of its plaza: Dwellings 1 and 49. Hart (1993:99) speculated that Dwellings 1 and 49 represented communal structures. Dwelling 1 is undifferentiated from the dwelling ring and located adjacent to the village’s entrance. Dwelling 49 is associated with a possible courtyard group—akin to a village within a village. The members of this discrete social group apparently pooled their labor to maximize subsistence production and their economic standing within the village, as indicated by a greater number of associated storage features. The intrusion of several dwellings associated with the courtyard group into the plaza—a clear violation of geometric models used to plan and otherwise maintain the community—and restricted access to the courtyard could indicate that its inhabitants held a privileged position relative to most other community members. An unusually large post discovered in the center of the courtyard could have been the location of rituals whose access was restricted to members of their courtyard group and invited guests. The inhabitants of the group also may have co-opted rituals generally associated with the community as a whole at other Monongahela tradition sites (Means 2001). No candidate for an axis mundi was found in the center of Peck 2-2’s plaza that could have served as the focus of communitylevel rituals. Pure locational clustering analysis veri¤ed the presence of the courtyard

Modeling Community Patterning / 119 group. It represented one distinct segment in the dwelling ring and had two other discrete segments located on opposite sides along the dwelling ring; these dwelling segments on either side of the courtyard group may have been each further subdivided into two discrete dwelling clusters. Thus, dwellings exhibited circumferential patterning in addition to forming a concentric band. The small number of features and associated artifacts generally did not exhibit patterning independent of their adjacent structures. Carr’s index of polythetic association showed very weak to moderate associations between major artifact classes. An unconstrained clustering analysis did not disclose any signi¤cant patterning in the distribution of artifacts. Visual inspection of Peck 2-2’s community pattern did indicate that two broadly de¤ned feature classes— storage features and graves—exhibited some circumferential patterning. Several storage features were associated with the courtyard group and architecturally helped de¤ne the courtyard space. Eight graves formed a cluster in the southern section of Peck 2-2 and apparently represent a formally de¤ned cemetery. All of these graves were oriented in the same direction, toward the southeast, implying that grave orientation partly re®ected beliefs shared by a segment of the community. One isolated grave was located in close proximity to the unusually large dwelling placed adjacent to the main opening into the dwelling ring. Relative to other graves, the individual in this grave had a diverse array of funerary objects and could have been one of the settlement’s leaders. Otherwise, there were few indicators of status distinctions evident at Peck 2-2. Village Geometric Models. Historic disturbances at Peck 2-1 generate some ambiguity in the interpretation of community patterns. Only the general concentric model is clearly supported. Nonetheless, Peck 2-1 has the strongest evidence in support of diametric patterning at any Allegheny Mountains region village component. Spatial analyses suggest that material remains are divided into broad clusters occupying Peck 2-1’s northwestern and southeastern halves. Circumferential patterning is evident at Peck 2-1 also, with the two larger dwelling clusters divided into two and three segments, respectively. The huband-spoke model is not well supported given the limited radial patterning visible. At Peck 2-2, geometric models must be considered on two levels. One level is relevant to the site as a whole, and the second level pertains to the courtyard group. Limited diametric patterning is evident in the two unusually large dwellings paired on either side of the plaza. Radial patterning for the entire settlement is best characterized by the general concentric model. For the courtyard group alone, many conditions of Portnoy’s ring model are met, including a communal front region with an axis mundi and features located in family front and back regions. The courtyard group’s existence supports the presence

120 / Chapter 7 of circumferential patterning at Peck 2-2. This group represents one segment of the dwelling ring, and there are at least two segments on either side of it. Each of these segments is further subdivided into two smaller groups. Village Social Groups. At Peck 2-1, households were formally linked. Five dwelling clusters represent extended or multifamily groups. One dwelling cluster was apparently more economically successful than the others. The ¤ve dwelling clusters are grouped into two larger clusters that may represent the halves of a dual division. It does not appear that any sodalities were present at this component. There is also no evidence of status distinctions that in®uenced village spatial organizations at Peck 2-1. However, there are three individuals interred together in a single dwelling who may have been prominent in Peck 2-1’s community, perhaps as shamans or community leaders. One individual had 371 Marginella apcina beads arranged around the torso. This individual had access to signi¤cant quantities of nonlocal goods, perhaps indicating that the person functioned as a community leader and controlled contact with outside traders or other individuals. For Peck 2-2, there is strong evidence that households were formally linked, although attached post-enclosed features at some dwellings could indicate limited economic autonomy. The courtyard group’s presence and apparent appropriation of geometric settlement models to its own organization indicate the strength of social ties within this village segment. This courtyard group and the dwelling clusters on either side are suf¤ciently large to represent a lineage, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. A dual social organization was not present at Peck 2-2, but certainly dual oppositions in®uenced the layout of the settlement, with the two unusually large structures paired on either side of the plaza. A small structure located within the otherwise clear central plaza is a candidate for a sodality structure along the lines of a men’s house. Finally, Peck 2-2’s layout does indicate some in®uences in village spatial organizations from status distinctions, particularly the aforementioned unusually large structures. VILLAGE SITES NEAR CONFLUENCE Con®uence, Pennsylvania, is located where the Casselman River, Youghiogheny River, and Laurel Hill Creek join to form a larger Youghiogheny River. A fair amount of variation is evident in the community patterns of village sites located here, including three problematic sites: Montague, Clouse, and Hanna. These sites represent the core around which the Monongahela tradition was ¤rst de¤ned (Butler 1939). Montague is not considered further in this work because of considerable ambiguities in its village layout. Further details on Montague and its problematic community pattern are available in Means (2002b). Data on the remaining three village sites near Con®uence—Fort Hill, Reckner,

Modeling Community Patterning / 121 and Gower—are generally stronger. With the exception of Reckner, all sites near Con®uence have layouts created independently of their topographic settings. Clouse Two discrete, nonoverlapping components were excavated at Clouse in the mid-1930s (Figure 24) (Table 3) (Augustine 1936a, 1936b). The larger circular enclosure—Clouse I—had a residential function and is oriented so that its long axis is parallel to the nearby Youghiogheny River. The data related to dwellings’ locations, sizes, and shapes at Clouse I were lost in the 1930s (Means 2002c). Clouse II apparently had a nonresidential function; the sole feature within this circular enclosure is a centrally located hearth. Clouse II is oriented such that its maximum dimension is aligned along an east-west axis. Because artifact collections from this site are missing, it was not possible to obtain AMS dates for either component. Missing dwelling data hamper interpretations of Clouse I. Perhaps its dwellings were arranged in such a fashion that this component lacked a formal central plaza. Its residents could have constructed a separate facility to handle their ritual and ceremonial needs at Clouse II. This facility could have been constructed and shared with other people living in the immediate vicinity. If this were the case, Clouse II would have represented neutral ground where social groups of varying sizes and degrees of interrelatedness met at ceremonially or ritually prescribed times. The presence of a central hearth at Clouse II—its axis mundi—shows that geometric models were applied to both habitation and nonhabitation sites in the Allegheny Mountains region. Because of missing artifact and dwelling data, Clouse I’s analyses emphasized examination of radial and circumferential graphs. Visual inspection of Clouse I and its radial graph revealed some concentric patterning in the distribution of feature classes. A band of hearths and freestanding post-enclosed features likely correspond to dwelling locations. Also of interest was a centrally located pit feature that could have functioned as an axis mundi. Clouse I’s circumferential graph was multimodal. Each mode may have correlated to a missing dwelling pattern. Village Geometric Models. These models are dif¤cult to evaluate for Clouse I because of missing dwelling data at this component and generally are not applicable to Clouse II, which only has a single central feature—albeit one that represented an axis mundi. Radial patterning is evident in the distribution of functional feature classes at Clouse I, broadly supporting Dunnell’s functional radial model. The absence of dwellings does not allow other radially based geometric models to be properly evaluated. Circumferential patterning is evident at Clouse I, and the ¤ve segments in the component’s occupation zone may correlate to the locations of the ¤ve missing dwellings. Functional feature

122 / Chapter 7

24. Map of Clouse.

classes exhibit both radial and circumferential patterning, which accords with the basics of the hub-and-spoke model. Village Social Groups. These models could not be fully evaluated in the absence of dwelling data. Evidence for a dual organization is not re®ected in the distribution of functional feature classes. The circumferential graph suggested that three dwellings were once located in close proximity. These dwellings may have been more closely linked socially and economically than they were to the two other dwellings at Clouse I.

Modeling Community Patterning / 123

25. Map of Hanna.

Hanna The Hanna site, located along the banks of the Casselman River, was investigated in the 1930s (Augustine 1935; Means 1998a). No suitable organic matter is available to obtain an AMS assay, so its date of occupation remains uncertain. Like Petenbrink 1-1, the Hanna site lacks an encircling palisade (Figure 25). Perhaps this explains why its dwellings form a somewhat amorphous but distinct ring around a comparatively large plaza (Table 3). Two centrally located hearths are almost isomorphic with the plaza’s geometric center and individually or collectively acted as an axis mundi. Dwellings encircling Hanna’s plaza formed clusters of varying size. Individual dwellings housed 4 to 13 individuals each, with 7 dwellings potentially representing multifamily or communal structures. Hanna had approximately 202 residents (Table 4). A radial graph of pit features exhibited some distinct concentric patterning. Overlapping bands of pits classi¤ed according to size suggested that more intrusive activities took place on the outer edges of the village site. Hanna’s cir-

124 / Chapter 7 cumferential graph was multimodal. Many pit feature locations were not congruent with dwelling clusters but were located between these clusters, perhaps in public areas. Distances between dwellings, visual inspection of Hanna’s community pattern, and pure locational clustering aided the delineation of four dwelling clusters. Village Geometric Models. Hanna was clearly designed according to geometric models with concentric and circumferential elements. Dwellings form clusters that encircle a large plaza, and features are distributed in distinct but overlapping bands. The geometric models that are most strongly supported include the general concentric model, Dunnell’s functional radial model, the circumferential model, and the hub-and-spoke model. No support exists for a dual organization of material elements, and limited support exists for Yellen’s and Portnoy’s ring models. Numerous features have locations that do not conform well to radial patterning. The lack of an encircling palisade is thought to have loosened physical constraints that might otherwise have generated a discrete communal activity zone just outside the dwelling ring. Village Social Groups. Hanna’s households were formally linked and not autonomous. Visual inspection of Hanna’s site map and application of pure locational clustering indicate that the occupation zone around the plaza is segmented into four dwelling clusters. Based on population estimates, each dwelling group could have represented a discrete lineage segment, clan, or LéviStraussian house. Each dwelling group may have had some sense of ownership over the part of the dwelling ring that it occupied. A winged ef¤gy pipe stem fragment and cannel coal ef¤gy pendant found at Hanna could have represented symbols of such dwelling groups. Because dwellings or features did not form two larger clusters within Hanna, there is no evidence to suggest that a dual social organization once existed at the site. Although there are unusually large structures at Hanna, they appear to have represented prominent or economically successful individuals or families associated with each dwelling cluster and not necessarily the presence of sodalities. However, there is no evidence to suggest that economic success or other potential status distinctions in®uenced the spatial distribution of village elements at Hanna. Fort Hill In 1939 and 1940, a WPA ¤eld crew conducted excavations on the summit of the mesa-like Fort Hill (Augustine 1940:51; Means 1998a:42). The two superimposed village components they encountered were designated the Fort Hill site (Figure 26). Based on valid pooled radiocarbon assays, Fort Hill I dates to 737 ± 22 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1229 to 1290), and Fort Hill II was occupied around 722 ± 28 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1229 to 1381). An earlier community patterns analysis

Modeling Community Patterning / 125

26. Map of Fort Hill, with locations of ceremonial posts at Fort Hill I and II indicated.

suggested that Fort Hill I, the smaller component, immediately preceded Fort Hill II and that the latter was likely designed in reference to the earlier component (Means 2001). Differences between the two components are most parsimoniously accounted for if Fort Hill II was purposely planned to alleviate problems caused when Fort Hill I’s layout was no longer able to meet the challenges of a growing population (Means 2002a). Internal settlement growth compromised the geometric model(s) used to structure the village’s layout and would have adversely affected how social groups localized within the village. The recon¤guration of Fort Hill I into Fort Hill II depended not only on the desire or impetus to change the layout of the settlement but on either suf¤cient time to clear a larger settlement area or suf¤cient labor to enact this change— that is, when the village population reached a certain size. The much larger total settlement size evident at Fort Hill II allowed for greater spacing between adjacent dwellings. This greater spacing meant that there would have been decreased activity overlap between households, a signi¤cant potential source of intrahousehold friction in Fort Hill I. Fort Hill II’s proportionally much larger plaza further ensured that the plaza itself acted as a better distance buffer between nonadjacent dwellings than Fort Hill I’s plaza (Table 3). A larger plaza may also have been constructed as part of a strategy

126 / Chapter 7 to increase the community’s standing within the immediate region. It would have enabled community members to host greater numbers of outsiders as well as more elaborate ceremonies or perhaps more substantial intra- and intersettlement games. Fort Hill II’s plaza was designed with reference to the plaza at Fort Hill I as it existed at the end of its occupational history. That Fort Hill II’s plaza was built with reference to the plaza in Fort Hill I is not surprising. Plazas are usually the most signi¤cant shared cultural space within a ring-shaped settlement and are critical to enhancing and maintaining group solidarity (Adler and Wilshusen 1990:135; Altman and Gauvain 1981:287; Moore 1996). Congruence between the two plazas may also have been related to attempts to maintain continuity with, and situate the community within, a cosmological landscape anchored physically in each village component through ceremonial posts that each acted as an axis mundi (Pearson and Richards 1994:12; Siegel 1996:317). Fort Hill I’s estimated population of nearly 300 individuals was distributed in 31 dwellings, with all but one structure inhabited by nuclear families (Table 4). The largest structure may have had a communal function. Dwelling clusters were not evident through visual inspection of Fort Hill I’s layout due to the component’s complex occupational history. This history in®uenced the various analyses performed at Fort Hill I. Radial and circumferential graphs displayed clearer patterning if the geometric center of the village component was used as the origin point of these graphs rather than the center of the plaza as it existed at the end of Fort Hill I’s occupation. The intrasite spatial analytical techniques were less in®uenced by these changes in Fort Hill I’s layout, although these changes did in®uence the interpretations of the results from these analyses. Most features at Fort Hill were associated with Fort Hill I. Features were frequently recovered within or directly associated with dwellings. In a radial graph from Fort Hill I’s geometric center, graves and hearths were found in a band that overlapped directly with the dwelling ring. This suggested that cooking activities and interment of the dead—mostly children—were private, family affairs. Freestanding post-enclosed features were in a band that overlapped the outer edges of dwellings. Storage was a semiprivate affair with storage pits located in space shared by multifamily groups. Circumferential patterning indicated that the distribution of pit features was multimodal, identifying the locations of discrete dwelling clusters obscured by newer dwellings constructed at Fort Hill I after its founding. Nearest neighbor analysis showed that major artifact classes were randomly distributed across Fort Hill I, although most were spatially aggregated with one another. Carr’s index of polythetic association suggested that the relationships between major artifact classes re®ected complex associations but none that in-

Modeling Community Patterning / 127 dicated spatial aggregation or segregation of activities. An unconstrained clustering analysis of Fort Hill I also indicated no spatial aggregation or segregation of activities. The results of the unconstrained clustering analysis implied that most pit features at Fort Hill I contained artifacts likely generated from general household refuse from activities associated with the nearest dwellings. Pure locational clustering proved the strongest technique for delineating discrete social groups from Fort Hill I’s complicated layout. This analysis suggested that the dwelling ring at Fort Hill I was divided into at least three segments, with the western and southern segments further subdivided into two segments each. The mortuary program at Fort Hill I was relatively simple and the distribution of graves generally did not exhibit patterning independent of dwellings; most were found within or immediately adjacent to dwellings. No formal cemetery was identi¤ed at Fort Hill I, although several graves were placed in the break in its dwelling ring that represented the formal entrance into the village circle. When community members at Fort Hill I expanded their settlement into Fort Hill II, they created a structurally simpler but considerably larger village settlement that consisted of a single row of dwellings arrayed around a centrally distributed plaza that had a large ceremonial post located in its geometric center. A substantial open area was present beyond the single row of dwellings, creating a concentric pattern at Fort Hill II that consisted of the plaza, the single row of dwellings, and the space between the dwellings and the surrounding palisade. The much larger occupation of Fort Hill II encompassed the maximum area of the summit at Fort Hill possible for a settlement that adhered to a ring-shaped village layout. Fort Hill II’s dwelling ring consisted of 31 structures that housed a combined population of 294 individuals (Table 4). Fort Hill II’s dwellings were larger overall than those at Fort Hill I. Approximately half the dwellings could have housed extended or multifamily groups. The largest dwelling at Fort Hill II was similar in size to the largest dwelling at Fort Hill I and may also have represented a communal structure. Few features other than graves contained substantial numbers of artifacts. Because Fort Hill II’s community pattern was so simple and there were so few features, no radial or circumferential graphs were generated for this village component. Both nearest neighbor analysis and Carr’s index of polythetic association revealed strong associations between major ceramic classes, but nonceramic artifact classes showed weak associations. There was insuf¤cient information to infer the nature of activities represented at most nongrave features. An unconstrained clustering analysis was not implemented at Fort Hill II because of the small number of features that contained artifacts. Pure locational

128 / Chapter 7 clustering delineated nine dwelling clusters. Each segment was minimally a multifamily unit or other corporate social group such as a lineage segment, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. Fort Hill II had only nine de¤nite and one possible graves. All were found within dwelling outlines. A single grave of a child showed evidence for grave architecture—a stone was placed on this child’s skull. This same grave also contained 78 animal bone beads around its trunk. Within the same dwelling was a second child’s grave that had six elk tooth pendants. The dwelling that contained these graves was located directly opposite the formal opening into the dwelling ring—and in a line of sight that bisected the central ceremonial post— suggesting that the family living in this dwelling was socially or ceremonially prominent within the community. Village Geometric Models. At Fort Hill I, the ideal geometric model(s) used to plan the settlement failed over time, as dwellings and features intruded upon what was once a larger and more centrally distributed plaza. This encroachment obscures aspects of spatial patterning at Fort Hill I. Even given the somewhat confusing distribution of material elements within Fort Hill I, there is no evidence for diametric patterning at this component. All of the geometric models with a radial basis are supported to some degree, with particularly strong support for Yellen’s ring model. The dwelling ring is segmented into three major dwelling clusters, indicating support for the circumferential model. Geometric patterning at Fort Hill I is evident in the distribution of dwellings and features but not clearly in the distribution of artifacts, which generally re®ect similar activity signatures associated with nearby households. Fort Hill II’s layout is much easier to examine relative to geometric models than Fort Hill I. The dwelling ring at Fort Hill II is well de¤ned and is divided into nine distinct dwelling clusters, indicating the presence of circumferential patterning. Of the geometric models with a radial basis, only the general concentric model is supported. The hub-and-spoke model is broadly supported for dwellings but not for features. Village Social Groups. Because of Fort Hill I’s complex occupational history, it is not possible to clearly identify social groups at this village component. Pure locational clustering analyses divided the dwelling ring into a number of dwelling clusters. Estimated populations for these dwelling clusters suggest that at least the larger clusters were not simply discrete multifamily groups but may have represented a social group type along the lines of lineage segments, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. These formally linked households were not clearly separated into a dual division. An unusually large structure within this component’s plaza may indicate that there was at least one sodality present here. No clear status distinctions are evident at Fort Hill I that could have in®uenced village spatial organizations.

Modeling Community Patterning / 129 Pure locational clustering analysis and population estimations provide stronger evidence at Fort Hill II for formally linked as opposed to autonomous households. Nine dwelling clusters occupy discrete segments of the dwelling ring and may have represented social groups above the individual family level that could have been lineage segments, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. This subdivision of the dwelling ring into discrete social groups is reminiscent of social con¤gurations recorded ethnographically in South America and ethnohistorically among the Plains Indians, as outlined in Chapter 4. Because Fort Hill II’s layout is a recon¤guration of Fort Hill I’s community plan, Fort Hill II’s social groups would have been present in the earlier component but were inhibited from appearing properly within the dwelling ring because of crowding. Two dwelling clusters occupy a segment of Fort Hill II’s dwelling ring that is set aside from other dwellings by one break at the entrance into the dwelling ring and another break that separated these dwelling clusters from the remainder of the dwelling ring. This segmentation of the dwelling ring could represent the presence of an underlying dual social organization. If so, relationships between the two major dwelling clusters at Fort Hill II would have been asymmetrical. Alternatively, the smaller division might have represented a spatially discrete lineage segment, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. There is some limited support for the presence of at least one sodality at Fort Hill II, which had one unusually large structure constructed at its founding. Finally, there is tenuous evidence that status distinctions in®uenced village spatial organizations. A dwelling adjacent to the opening into the dwelling ring may have housed a prominent individual or family. Another dwelling opposite the entrance into the dwelling ring also may have been associated with a prominent family in the village community, based on comparatively unusual grave furniture found associated with two children interred in this structure. Gower The mesa-like summit upon which the Fort Hill site rested was connected by a saddle to Snyder’s Hill (Cresson 1942:21). The Gower site—an enigmatic site located on this saddle—was excavated over the winter of 1939–1940 (Cresson 1942:25–26; Means 1998a). This site consists of an oval palisaded component— labeled Gower I—and a nonpalisaded semicircular arrangement of dwellings— Gower II—that either overlaps or is overlapped by Gower I (Figure 27). A single radiocarbon assay of 744 ± 48 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1186 to 1385) shows that the palisaded component of Gower may have been contemporary with Fort Hill I or Fort Hill II. No date was obtained for Gower II. Like Gnagey 3-1, some have argued that Gower I lacks a formally de¤ned plaza (Hart 1993). Perhaps, as was speculated for Gnagey 3-1, the residents of

130 / Chapter 7

27. Map of Gower, with Gower II highlighted.

Gower I did not need their own plaza. They could have participated in ceremonies at the village located on Fort Hill. At least two other possibilities may account for the apparent lack of a plaza at Gower I. One is that a plaza did exist, but erosion and modern disturbances destroyed dwellings and features that helped de¤ne it. Another is that Gower I represents a village that was abandoned before its inhabitants built suf¤cient structures to complete a full ring of dwellings around a well-de¤ned plaza. Gower’s occupational history is dif¤cult to decipher. Formation processes and overlapping occupations do not enable a determination of whether Gower I was constructed according to geometric models with concentric or circumferential elements. The semicircular arc of dwellings at Gower II more closely approximates at least half of a ring-shaped settlement. Analogous settlements have been recorded ethnographically in South America, where an arc of dwellings can represent half of a settlement, i.e., one dual division in a “normal” village (Bennett 1949:5). Although Gower I represented an oval and palisaded village component, the extant traces of its community pattern indicated that it was apparently not a ring-shaped settlement. There was a substantial amount of vacant space within Gower I, but only three dwellings were distinctly associated with this component. Two of Gower I’s dwellings were unusually large and could have housed an estimated 15 or 17 individuals, respectively (Table 4). It was not clear whether either or both were multifamily or communal structures. The third dwelling was smaller and would have housed a nuclear family with an estimated 8 mem-

Modeling Community Patterning / 131 bers. The sole dwelling at Gower II with 11 residents could have housed an extended or multifamily group, whereas the remaining dwellings apparently hosted nuclear families (Table 4). Village Geometric Models. These models do not apply to Gower I because its material remains are not organized in the form of a ring-shaped settlement. Gower II may have been “half ” of a ring-shaped settlement, but the general lack of associated material remains precludes this component’s analysis in terms of underlying geometric models. Village Social Groups. It is not clear if households were autonomous or formally linked at Gower I, but minor dwelling clustering at Gower II suggests that there was some degree of formal ties between households in this semicircular arc of structures. There is no clear evidence of dual organizations, sodalities, or status distinctions that might have in®uenced settlement layouts at either Gower I or Gower II. Reckner Archaeological excavations in 1937 found the Reckner site on the western and northwestern sides of a slightly rounded knoll (Cresson 1942:27; Means 1998a) with a commanding view of the surrounding hills and valleys (Augustine 1938a:6). Like Gower, Reckner has a complex occupational history that hampers interpretations of its community pattern (Figure 28). Several episodes of dwelling reconstruction and expansion—as well as palisade lines that crosscut dwelling outlines—point to several episodes of reoccupation. The Reckner site may have consisted of as many as three components (Means 2006a). The palisaded portion of Reckner is designated here as Reckner I. The other component(s) at Reckner are not considered here because only Reckner I conforms to a ring-shaped layout. Valid AMS dates produced a pooled age of 571 ± 22 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1311 to 1417) for Reckner I. All dwellings at Reckner I housed nuclear families with ¤ve to nine members (Table 4). One structure located within Reckner I’s plaza may have had a communal function, perhaps representing a men’s house. The dwellings at Reckner I formed a ring around its plaza, but their distance relative to the encircling plaza varied. The palisade was extended on the eastern boundary of Reckner I to encompass an area of open space virtually devoid of cultural remains. A biased sample of artifacts precluded their fuller integration into analyses of this site; nearest neighbor analysis, Carr’s index of polythetic association, and unconstrained clustering were not implemented for Reckner I. Reckner I was amenable to visual inspection of radial and circumferential graphs. Broad concentric patterning was evident in Reckner I’s radial graph. Graves and dwellings shared the innermost band, re®ecting the placement of most

132 / Chapter 7

28. Map of Reckner.

graves within or adjacent to dwellings. The next band consisted of attached and freestanding post-enclosed features, indicating that storage generally took place behind dwellings in private or semiprivate parts of the settlement. The larger pits at Reckner I generated a very broad radial band, suggesting that there were limited spatial restrictions on the locations of more intrusive activities within the site. Limited circumferential patterning was evident. The majority of features were concentrated in the southeastern portion of the site. Seven graves clustered in the southwestern part of the site and could indicate the presence of a family plot. A pure locational clustering analysis of Reckner produced skewed results because of the site’s complicated occupational history. At Reckner, there were 36 de¤nite and 3 possible graves distributed through-

Modeling Community Patterning / 133 out the site’s components. Only 4 graves had associated funerary objects, and all were located within Reckner I. Two of these graves were located within the same dwelling. With the exception of a single grave located south of Reckner I, graves with specialized grave architecture were encountered only in the dwelling cluster located outside and to the north of the site. Village Geometric Models. Despite confusing elements in its village spatial layout, Reckner I could be examined in terms of village geometric models. No diametric patterning is evident. The site does exhibit both radial and circumferential patterning in the distribution of dwellings and especially features divided into functional classes. This component is one of the few Allegheny Mountains region villages that may indicate the presence of what Portnoy referred to as family front regions. The limited artifactual information is not suf¤cient to ascertain if one model describes Reckner I’s underlying geometric patterning better than another. Village Social Groups. The presence of dwelling clusters at Reckner I and the distribution of features show that households were formally linked. The dwellings within these clusters vary from loosely to tightly structured, perhaps re®ecting differential economic, social, or political ties between the multihousehold groups. Each dwelling cluster—whether loose or tight in its con¤guration—may have represented a lineage, clan, or Lévi-Straussian house. These clusters were apparently not organized into a larger dual organization, but the presence of a structure within the plaza could point to the presence of at least one sodality. Status distinctions did not in®uence the spatial distribution of village social organizations at Reckner I. VILLAGE SITES NEAR STONY CREEK Two completely excavated village sites are located near Stony Creek: Powell 1 and Powell 2. Both sites were excavated during the Great Depression. The topographic settings of these sites did not in®uence their layouts, but postdepositional erosion did destroy part of Powell 1’s layout (Cresson 1942:37). Powell 1 Powell 1 was found in 1938 on a level bench located on the eastern side of a knoll (Augustine 1938c:63; Cresson 1942:36–37). The preserved portions of the dwelling ring consist of a single row of dwellings around a fairly substantial plaza (Figure 29). The site’s age of occupation is currently unknown. Its 26 dwellings housed an estimated 202 individuals (Table 4), but it is probable that the eroded portion of the site would have housed 25 to 30 percent more residents. Most if not all dwellings at Powell 1 were apparently inhabited by nuclear families, although one dwelling at this site could have been a multifamily

134 / Chapter 7

29. Map of Powell 1.

or communal structure. This structure did not occupy a specialized location within the site. Powell 1’s plaza was almost half of its total settlement space (Table 3). Postenclosed features were the most common feature type at the site; one dwelling had two attached post-enclosed features. Although its dwelling ring was incomplete, the distances between dwellings suggested intentional clustering of structures within the dwelling ring, re®ecting one form of circumferential patterning. A circumferential graph was multimodal and demonstrated that features generally clustered independent of dwelling locations, perhaps situated within pooled activity loci shared between discrete social groups. Pure locational clustering divided Powell 1’s dwelling ring into three arcs of almost equal length but with varying quantities of dwellings. These may have been subdivided into dwelling clusters that represented multifamily or other corporate

Modeling Community Patterning / 135 social groups with roughly 30 to 40 members each. Four graves formed a small cluster in the southwestern section and may have represented a family plot. The grave of an adult of unknown sex was covered with a stone or stones and interred with a red stone axe. Village Geometric Models. Powell 1 has a relatively simple structure with dwellings and features con¤ned to a single radial band—as expected for the general concentric model. More subtle radial patterning is not evident at the site primarily because features are not generally associated with individual dwellings but are more loosely associated with dwelling clusters. Dwellings do not form two larger clusters as expected for the diametric model but do exhibit circumferential patterning in the form of three dwelling clusters. Village Social Groups. Social groups at Powell 1 were formally linked. Pure locational clustering combined with population estimates enabled the delineation of at least three social groups. These population estimates indicate the likely presence of social groups above the individual household level, perhaps as lineage segments, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. There is some apparent asymmetry within the dwelling ring, given the size of the three dwelling clusters. The two larger dwelling clusters may have been subdivided into two smaller dwelling clusters each. This could indicate that there were multiple levels of social organization present at Powell 1: the individual household level, social groups combining more than one household, even larger social groups combining the smaller multihousehold groups, and the community as a whole. The single burial with a red stone axe could have been a community leader. However, one should caution that the missing segment of the dwelling ring might have painted a different picture of the size and con¤guration of social groups at Powell 1. There is no clear support for sodalities; the larger dwellings at this site are located throughout the dwelling ring and likely represent economically successful families. Powell 2 Powell 2 was excavated later in 1938, after Powell 1 (Means 1998a). The palisade surrounding Powell 2 is a rough oval in outline; naturally occurring trees incorporated into the palisade may have in®uenced its overall shape (Figure 30). This village site of unknown age may have been oriented with respect to the cardinal directions—its longest dimension was oriented on an east-west axis. The plaza at Powell 2 was its single largest social space. There was generally little space for activities between the outer edges of dwellings and the palisade. One of the few exceptions was located on the western side of the village site. This space contained a number of different pit features of relatively large size. The presence of this area and the distribution of post-enclosed features demonstrated that there was some activity differentiation among different

136 / Chapter 7

30. Map of Powell 2.

dwellings or possible dwelling clusters. One dwelling may have occupied a prominent position within Powell 2’s dwelling ring. This structure was located adjacent to the community’s entrance and had three attached storage features. Four other storage features were each attached to an individual dwelling. Two overlapping dwelling patterns demonstrated that some rebuilding occurred at Powell 2. Most dwellings were occupied by nuclear families (Table 4). Two dwellings were unusually large and might have housed extended or multifamily groups. Alternatively, either or both structures could have represented communal structures, perhaps a men’s house. Pure locational clustering showed that there may have been ¤ve or six discrete dwelling clusters. The size of each cluster would have ranged from 15 to 35 individuals each. Each cluster minimally represented a multifamily group. Village Geometric Models. Powell 2 was planned according to circular settlement models that had both a concentric basis—the ring of dwellings around the central plaza—and a circumferential element—the presence of dwelling clusters that segmented the dwelling ring. Five or six smaller dwelling clusters are arranged into two larger dwelling clusters. Pits are not arranged in discrete radial bands in terms of functional feature classes as would be expected under Dunnell’s functional radial model. The arrangement of features with respect

Modeling Community Patterning / 137 to dwellings may support Portnoy’s division of space into family and communal front and back regions. Village Social Groups. Visual inspection and pure locational clustering analysis suggest that Powell 2’s dwelling ring is subdivided into segments that represent discrete social groups, indicating that households were formally linked. The smaller dwelling clusters are small enough that they could have represented extended or multifamily groups, although the larger clusters are of suf¤cient size to represent more sizeable social groups. Hart (1993) had earlier suggested that dwelling groupings at the site represented different lineage groups. These dwelling groupings could also have been clans or Lévi-Straussian houses. Powell 2’s dwellings are also organized into two larger dwelling clusters that could represent the spatial manifestation of a dual social organization. Each dual division also has an associated unusually large structure, each of which could indicate the presence of a sodality associated with each division. Some dwellings may also have occupied privileged positions around the dwelling ring. One structure with three attached storage features is located near the site’s entrance and may have helped control access to the settlement, as well as the ®ow of goods into the community. VILLAGE SITES NEAR WILLS CREEK Troutman and Emerick are village sites located east of the Allegheny Front in the Ridge and Valley province and within the Potomac Drainage System (Johnson 2001). Each site may have served as a link in the exchange of ideas and material items between groups inhabiting the Upper Ohio and Potomac Drainage Systems. The layouts of both sites were not in®uenced by their topographic settings, but Troutman’s layout was partly destroyed by postdepositional erosion. Troutman The Troutman site, investigated in 1937, is located on a sloping spur of Big Savage Mountain (Cresson 1942:35). A single valid radiocarbon assay was obtained of 742 ± 40 b.p. (cal 2 σ a.d. 1215 to 1380). Partial stockade lines show that the site was expanded during its occupational history. Unfortunately, half the site’s dwellings and probably some of its features were lost through postdepositional erosion (Figure 31). Dwellings preserved in the northern and eastern sections were haphazardly arranged rather than forming a single arc paralleling the plaza. The contemporaneity of some dwellings is unclear; overlapping dwelling patterns demonstrated that there were rebuilding episodes. All but one of the extant dwellings housed nuclear families, and the combined population of the site was at least 172 people (Table 4). One structure was unusually large and could have represented a multifamily residence or a communal structure.

138 / Chapter 7

31. Map of Troutman.

The analyses of Troutman were in®uenced by the absent dwelling patterns from half the village site. However, at least some features were preserved even in the eroded portion of the site. A radial graph of dwelling and feature data displayed three broad and overlapping bands, indicating the presence of concentric patterning at the site. The innermost band consisted of dwellings and graves. The middle radial band included freestanding post-enclosed features and showed that storage took place in private or semiprivate areas between or behind dwellings. Larger pits, comprising the third radial band, were distributed throughout the site. Evidently, there was minimal spatial segregation of more intrusive activities. Graves were the most common feature at Troutman; this site had substantially more human remains than any other Allegheny Mountains region village component. A total of 51 individuals were interred within 48 graves. One grave contained three overlapping skeletons from three discrete burial episodes. This evidence and the possible presence of two grave clusters could document the presence of formally de¤ned cemeteries, although the lack of dwelling data makes this a tenuous conclusion. With two exceptions, all graves with associated funerary objects were those of adults, and the material interred with these adults would have more likely re®ected roles achieved by these individuals during their lifetimes rather than formally ascribed status distinctions. However,

Modeling Community Patterning / 139 one adult female who was interred with over 90 bird bone and shell beads/ ornaments may have ful¤lled a specialized role in village society, perhaps as a community leader or magico-religious practitioner. Village Geometric Models. Because dwelling patterns are missing from half the site, it is not possible to fully examine Troutman in terms of diametric patterning, Yellen’s ring model, or Portnoy’s ring model. Feature locations are better preserved at the site; they provide no support for the presence of diametric patterning but do support both general concentric patterning and functionally distinct radial patterning. Village Social Groups. Missing dwelling data also impede the assessment of village social groups at Troutman. However, the remaining dwellings are suf¤cient to indicate that households were formally linked. It is not possible to determine whether a dual organization was present at the site, although many graves are located in two possible cemeteries that could have been associated with each half of a dual division. It is also not clear if one or more sodalities were present or if status distinctions in®uenced village spatial organizations. The latter appears doubtful, because no strong status distinctions are evident in the large number of graves at Troutman—other than one individual who could have played a prominent role in village society. Emerick Four miles to the northeast of the Troutman site, the Emerick site was found on another eastern spur of Big Savage Mountain in fall 1937 (Augustine 1938a:9; Cresson 1942:35; Means 1998a:42). The site clearly consists of a ring of dwellings that encircles an open central plaza (Figure 32). The occupational history of the site was somewhat obscured by episodes of dwelling rebuilding and at least one expansion of the encircling palisade. The most common feature class at Emerick was graves, some of which were located just outside the site’s palisade. Features were commonly located within dwellings or between dwellings and the palisade; dwelling overlap and settlement expansion obscured the latter pattern somewhat. The site was organized into three irregular concentric zones: the plaza, the ring of dwellings, and the space between dwellings and the palisade. With one exception, dwellings apparently housed nuclear families for a combined population of 202 villagers (Table 4). The one unusually large structure might have housed an extended or multifamily social group, or it could have had a communal function. Three adults and one child were interred in three graves within this structure and could support the notion that this was a family rather than a communal dwelling. Some feature classes displayed concentric patterning in the radial graph of the Emerick site. Freestanding and attached post-enclosed features formed a narrow radial band associated with dwellings—a ¤nding indicating that stor-

140 / Chapter 7

32. Map of Emerick.

age was an issue closely managed by the occupants of individual dwellings. A circumferential graph divided the site into four quarters, closely matching the ¤ndings of a pure locational clustering analysis. Pure locational clustering determined that there were ¤ve signi¤cant clusters of dwellings, two of them separated by a small distance. This could indicate two discrete social groups that had a closer relationship with one another than they did with the three other dwelling clusters. The dwelling clusters minimally represented multifamily groups. The 32 graves at Emerick contained 35 individuals, including secondary inhumations. Secondary inhumations are uncommon on Allegheny Mountains region sites (Means 2006a). One such inhumation is of an individual who met a violent death as indicated by a stone biface embedded in one vertebra. Perhaps all secondary inhumations at Emerick re®ect the results of hostile relations with outsiders. Most graves at the site did not re®ect the presence of signi¤cant status distinctions among community members. One adult individual, however, likely occupied a prominent position in the community—perhaps as a magico-religious practitioner or a community leader. In addition to various bone and shell beads, this individual had 18 polished turkey wing bones placed on its chest to act as breast plates. Graves were well distributed throughout the

Modeling Community Patterning / 141 site and provide little additional information suitable to interpreting the village site’s community pattern in terms of geometric models. Village Geometric Models. Dwelling and feature distributions do not support the presence of a dual division within Emerick. General concentric patterning is evident both in the con¤guration of its dwellings—as one would expect for a ring-shaped settlement—and in the distribution of features. The broad concentric patterning encompasses multiple overlapping bands of functional feature classes, providing support for Dunnell’s functional radial model. Most features are associated with household activities, in terms of either individual households or larger social groups represented by dwelling clusters. Features are generally located within, between, or behind dwellings. Some larger pit features are found between dwellings and the encircling palisade in an apparent effort to consign more intrusive activities into less public areas. Yellen’s ring model is therefore more strongly supported than Portnoy’s. Dwellings exhibit circumferential patterning, forming ¤ve clusters of unequal number and size, as de¤ned through pure locational clustering analysis and population estimates. Features also show circumferential patterning in addition to their radial patterning—again because of their close association with dwellings—and this patterning supports the hub-and-spoke model. Village Social Groups. Dwelling clusters represent formally linked household groups. Although the smaller dwelling clusters could have represented extended or multifamily social groups, the larger social groups likely had stronger social ties to maintain their cohesion, perhaps in the form of lineage segments, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. The lack of artifactual data and the fact that graves did not form clusters render it dif¤cult to assign any of the dwelling clusters to a speci¤c type of social group. The ¤ve dwelling clusters are not grouped into two larger dwelling clusters, thus suggesting that no dual organization was present at Emerick. A possible sodality structure present contained four adults interred in three graves—perhaps foreshadowing the charnel houses seen at more recent Monongahela tradition sites (Means 2006a). Alternatively, this structure could have been occupied by a single extended or multifamily social group. There is no indication that status distinctions in®uenced village spatial organizations. Mortuary data do indicate one individual whose extensive and diverse funerary assemblage demonstrates that this person may have served as a community leader of some type, either as a village headman or perhaps a magico-religious practitioner. ASSESSING MODELS OF VILLAGE ORGANIZATION This section more generally considers the geometric model(s) that underlie the layouts of Allegheny Mountains region village components and what social

142 / Chapter 7 groups might have been represented spatially in these village layouts. Minimally, a stronger understanding of community organization was achieved through application of these two sets of models. The various analyses applied to village sites in this region demonstrate that a variety of social and historical factors in®uenced their community patterns as re®ected in the archaeological record. Postdepositional factors acted to partly obliterate or obscure community patterns at some sites. Nonetheless, this chapter shows that geometric models were used by native groups to plan many village settlements in the Allegheny Mountains region and to spatially con¤gure social groups of varying sizes according to these geometric models. In at least two cases, Gnagey 3 and Fort Hill, it is highly probable that earlier village occupations were recon¤gured by their respective communities or descendent communities to align more closely with ideal settlement planning models that had a geometric basis. Village Geometric Models that Potentially Characterize All or Some Aspects of a Village’s Community Pattern The ability to assess underlying geometric models was strongest when all dwelling patterns were preserved in a village’s spatial layout. It is the distribution of dwellings that indicates the existence of a ring-shaped settlement; it is their con¤guration into a broad band that de¤nes the central social space of the ring-shaped settlement—the plaza. Certain types of patterning were most readily recognized if they were re®ected in the distribution of dwellings, such as diametric or circumferential patterning. Other types of patterning could not be assessed effectively when dwelling data were absent or incomplete, notably Yellen’s and Portnoy’s ring models, which view activity patterning relative to the locations of dwellings. The arrangement of dwellings clearly had a strong in®uence on the distribution of material remains at Allegheny Mountains region village sites. Dwellings created a framework around which activities were structured. Features were placed relative to dwellings and dwelling clusters, perhaps based in part on functional considerations and in part on how hazardous or noxious individual activities were. Despite dif¤culties in examining Allegheny Mountains region village sites in terms of geometric models—considered below—some important observations can be drawn that are relevant not just to these sites but to ring-shaped settlements in general. Although there were mixed results for Yellen’s and Portnoy’s ring models, these results may re®ect some of the problems inherent in the Allegheny Mountains region village site data. These models should be retained for future studies of ring-shaped settlements. However, village data do not strongly support Portnoy’s notion of front and back regions. It appears that features were placed relative to dwellings or dwelling clusters and only coincidentally were placed in family front and back regions. Similarly, the hub-and-

Modeling Community Patterning / 143 spoke model may prove useful in characterizing community patterns at other ring-shaped village sites, even given that there was little evidence that the spatial distribution of material remains at these village sites depended simultaneously on circumferential and radial patterning. To some extent, the general concentric model could be viewed as a special case of Dunnell’s functional radial model, where a single radial band of functional feature types is broadly isomorphic with the ring of dwellings. However, the general concentric model may more clearly re®ect factors associated with the planning and establishment of a settlement—the arrangement of dwellings in a circle around a plaza. Dunnell’s functional radial model better characterizes the activity structure that developed at a settlement during its occupational history. Circumferential patterning was also a major in®uence on dwellings, which were arranged as clusters occupying segments of a village’s occupation zone at all Allegheny Mountains region sites that had unambiguous layouts. Allegheny Mountains region village sites were more complicated to assess in terms of geometric models that potentially characterized their community patterns than the ethnographic or ethnoarchaeological cases from which most of these models were derived. With the exception of Dunnell’s functional radial model, most geometric models developed for ring-shaped settlements rely on diagrammatic representations of ethnographic or ethnohistorically known villages. Investigating these ideal models in terms of the material remnants of these village sites was challenging, given the reality of the archaeological record. Another factor that adversely in®uenced how well geometric patterning could be examined at Allegheny Mountains region ring-shaped settlements was that most features were of unknown primary function and therefore were categorized according to their dimensions and not the activities for which they were originally created. This situation makes it dif¤cult to interpret the overlapping bands of feature types seen at some sites in terms of Dunnell’s functional radial model. Finally, artifact data were missing or incomplete for many sites and thus could not be used to support or refute patterning evident in the distribution of dwellings and features. Village Social Groups Potentially Represented within Each Village Component Dwelling clusters indicate that Allegheny Mountains region village sites of all sizes and all time periods had households that were formally linked rather than autonomous. The speci¤c nature of the social groups represented by these formally linked households was broadly assessed based on population estimates, which indicated that smaller dwelling clusters likely represented extended or

144 / Chapter 7 multifamily households whereas larger dwelling clusters probably were lineages, clans, or Lévi-Straussian houses. There was little evidence for dual organizations having been present in the spatial layouts of most Allegheny Mountains region village sites, and even at those sites with such evidence it was equivocal. This certainly does not mean that dual organizations were not present at these village sites, only that these dual organizations did not have strong material correlates. Some village sites had evidence for sodalities, but unusually large dwellings in many cases probably indicated structures that were associated with large family groups, multifamily groups, or possibly prominent individuals or families. Finally, status distinctions do not appear to have in®uenced village spatial organizations at most Allegheny Mountains region village sites. Neither the mortuary program at these sites nor the distribution of dwellings indicates the presence of signi¤cant status distinctions that in®uenced the layout of these village components. Some problems that hampered examinations of individual Allegheny Mountains region village components in terms of geometric models also affected the ability to discern village social groups. Artifact data are scarce for most sites, and several techniques of intrasite spatial analysis—nearest neighbor analysis, Carr’s coef¤cient of polythetic association, and unconstrained clustering— were applied effectively at only ¤ve sites: Gnagey 3, Petenbrink 1, Peck 1, Peck 2, and Fort Hill. Even at these sites, artifact distributional analyses were not successful in delineating larger social groups. There were few stylistic markers available for study, and those that were present occurred fairly evenly across a village site. Cordage twist impressions on cordmarked ceramics were not helpful in delineating social groups; the vast majority of ceramics at Allegheny Mountains region villages had ¤nal Z-twist impressions. More success at delineating potential multihousehold social groups was achieved through pure locational clustering analysis, primarily because dwelling data are strong at most of these village sites. The effectiveness of this technique reinforces the important role that dwellings played in ring-shaped settlements, where social groups localized their domiciles into discrete segments of the occupation zone that surrounds their village’s central plaza.

8 Comparative Analyses from Modeling Individual Village Components

Insights made into the spatial and social organizations of Allegheny Mountains region village components show that village sites in this region were planned according to geometric models. However, no single, unique model was used as a common template by all communities. Most village communities in the region also were structured around multihousehold social groups of varying sizes that spatially appeared as dwelling clusters, each of which occupied different segments of the occupation zone that surrounded their respective plazas. Even a cursory reading of individual cases studies revealed the diversity apparent in village layouts expressed by communities thought by some scholars to have shared a common cultural identity. Allegheny Mountains region village sites clearly exhibit variation in their spatial layouts and in their constituent social groups. Accounting for this variation cannot be achieved by examining individual village components in isolation. This chapter is organized around the three hypotheses outlined in Chapter 5 to consider cultural variability and change between village components. These hypotheses are designed to facilitate intercomponent comparisons and determine whether some or all Allegheny Mountains region village components shared a common factor that underlies their spatial layouts. Intercomponent comparisons could also indicate that some variation between village components re®ects directional change through time. DID VILLAGE SIZE INCREASE STEADILY THROUGH TIME? A critical step in any comparative analysis of community pattern data is to temporally order excavated village components in local or regional chronological sequences. Otherwise, the overall uncertainty in the chronological placement of individual village components with respect to each other would obscure the meaning of any variation observed between different components.

146 / Chapter 8 Researchers often ¤nd that placing excavated villages into chronological sequences is a challenge, partly because local and regional chronological sequences (1) are often tenuous constructions built on a paucity of well-dated sites and (2) rely on decades-old culture-historic notions to temporally order both undated and dated sites, even if the latter fall outside the parameters of the original culture-historic formulations. In Means (2003, 2006a), the culturehistoric roots of the local Monongahela tradition chronological sequence were reconsidered in the light of results obtained through AMS dating to address these two issues (see also Chapter 2). To better understand the importance of solid chronological data for comparative analyses of community patterns, let us step back for a moment and imagine how a researcher might have approached the study of Allegheny Mountains region village sites if none was securely dated. Let us postulate further that this researcher questioned the basic tenets of the extant culture-historic framework or at least found them too imprecise for intercomponent comparisons. Without secure dates for individual village components, one could place each village component in sequential order based on overall village size. In fact, prior to obtaining new AMS dates, this method was considered a more promising tactic for temporally ordering village components than relying on variation noted in Allegheny Mountains region material culture, which was considered too limited. Such an effort produces what appears to represent a fairly steady increase in village size (Figure 33). It would certainly have been tempting to interpret increased village size in terms of a linear developmental sequence re®ecting social changes through time, possibly correlated to increased social complexity. Under a scenario where village size and chronological placement are related, Fort Hill II—which is a clear aberration here with respect to its overall size— would have been perceived as the most recently occupied village site and, probably, separated by a considerable length of time from the next largest village, Peck 2-2. A linear developmental sequence has a certain allure from a culturehistoric standpoint, where an ideal sequence of village development would have been from small to large and less complex to more complex. The ¤rst hypothesis, that there was a general trend for increasing village size throughout the local developmental sequence, is designed around the ¤rst part of this argument. If successful, this approach would have proven advantageous because sites without datable organic material—or known artifact collections of any kind—could have been placed at least in a relative chronological order based on total village size. However, only with secure dates can one reliably examine how village size ¤ts into a local developmental sequence. Although it was not possible to secure radiocarbon assays for all Allegheny Mountains region village components, suf¤cient AMS dates were obtained to determine that these components did not form a strict linear developmental

Comparative Analyses / 147

33. Site plans from completely excavated villages in the Allegheny Mountains region arranged in relative order by increasing size.

sequence based on overall village size (Figure 34). A linear regression of village area to the approximate age of village occupation exhibits a weak and positive correlation between a given village’s size and its age of occupation (r = 0.355, R2 = 12.5%, p = 0.258, village area = −10369.1 + 10.7869 × age). Thus, the archaeological correlate for the ¤rst hypothesis, that village sites increased in size through time as re®ected by total village area, is only moderately supported. A stronger but still weak and positive correlation is evident between total village population and a village’s age of occupation in a graph of village plans against time and population and in a linear regression of these two variables (r = 0.47, R2 = 22.1%, p = 0.170, village population = −430.907 + 0.475265 × age). Therefore, there is slightly stronger support for the second archaeological correlate, that village sites increased in size through time as re®ected by total village population. These ¤ndings could indicate that some communities over time developed better mechanisms for integrating and maintaining larger village populations. DID THE RANGE OF VILLAGE SIZES INCREASE THROUGH TIME? Although Allegheny Mountains region village sites do not exhibit a steady increase in size through time, another possibility is encapsulated in the second hypothesis, that there was an increased range in village sizes through time. The presence of both early and late small village components supports the archaeological correlate that small village sites should be evident throughout the local developmental sequence. The second archaeological correlate, that there were increasingly larger village sites later in the local developmental sequence, is not

34. Site plans from completely excavated villages of known age in the Allegheny Mountains region arranged by occupation age and in relative order by increasing size.

Comparative Analyses / 149 as clearly supported. An examination of village plans plotted against time and overall size suggests that there was a ®uorescence of village components of all sizes between a.d. 1250 and a.d. 1400 (Figure 34). This ¤nding directly contradicts prior notions that a climatic downturn caused the abandonment of the Allegheny Mountains region by people who lived in village settlements after a.d. 1250. Most completely excavated village sites of known age in this region were inhabited after and not before that date. One could argue that the inhabitants of this region responded to the climatic downturn—if it happened at this time—by more regularly congregating in village settlements. Increased aggregation into village settlements could have occurred as local groups acted to ensure control over shrinking resources, for mutual defense because of increased hostilities over these resources, or to pool labor to cultivate maize more intensively and ef¤ciently. Differences in the strengths of social, economic, and ideological bonds between the social groups that founded and inhabited a village settlement may account for the broad range of village sizes between a.d. 1250 and a.d. 1400. Some variation in village community patterns could have resulted from social groups of varying size and complexity aggregating for the ¤rst time. Nass and Hart (2000) have suggested that regional packing and competition over limited arable land could have spurred the formation of village sites of varying sizes— perhaps intensifying after the climatic downturn around a.d. 1250. Competition over resources might have encouraged a shift to more diverse economic strategies by family-level or larger social entities within village sites, resulting in greater economic inequities and social groups of varying sizes. The range of dwelling sizes at any given site does become more heterogeneous after a.d. 1250, with more dwellings at or above 20 m2 being constructed (Means 2006a). More successful family-level or larger social entities could have constructed larger structures than less successful fellow villagers (see also Nass and Hart 2000; Hart et al. 2005). Some village communities could have formed as daughter communities of existing villages. Perhaps individual households or larger social groups were inspired to leave their parent village based on crowding or internal dissent, the latter a major concern among the Yanomamö (Chagnon 1968). The resulting community patterns would have depended on the size and type of social groups that founded them. Gnagey 3-1 may have represented such a daughter community. Alternatively, individual households or larger social groups may have joined existing communities. Peck 1 exhibited evidence that it grew from the addition of discrete households and larger social groups. Other variation in community patterns, as demonstrated in Chapter 7, was generated by the occupational trajectory of individual communities which intentionally recon¤gured earlier settlements to correspond more closely to ideal community

150 / Chapter 8 models with a geometric basis. This was evident in the recon¤guration of Gnagey 3-1 into Gnagey 3-2 and Fort Hill I into Fort Hill II. One must caution that the apparent low number of settlements prior to a.d. 1250 may also be related to the fact that radiocarbon assays were not obtained for all excavated Allegheny Mountains region village sites. Further, in all likelihood there are many such sites waiting to be excavated, some of which could date prior to a.d. 1250. Small sites on the order of Petenbrink 1-1 could easily have been overlooked by earlier generations of archaeologists. Postmold patterns for dwellings associated with such small village sites could have been obscured or destroyed by subsequent reoccupations of the same locales. WERE MORE STRUCTURALLY COMPLEX AND LARGER VILLAGES MORE RECENT IN THE LOCAL DEVELOPMENTAL SEQUENCE THAN SMALLER AND SIMPLER VILLAGE COMPONENTS? The earliest village component in the Allegheny Mountains region is also the smallest and the latest village component, and arguably has the most complex community pattern. On a super¤cial level, this statement seemingly provides some credence for the third hypothesis designed to examine cultural variability and change between village components: larger village sites not only appeared later in the local developmental sequence but also had more structurally complex community patterns than smaller villages. However, the analyses presented above and in Chapter 7 indicate that variation in size between Allegheny Mountains region village sites is not directly related to their temporal positions with respect to each other. Most variation in settlement size and complexity occurred within a relatively narrow time period. All but three of the completely excavated village components of known age were inhabited roughly within a century of each other, from the end of thirteenth to the beginning of the ¤fteenth centuries a.d. These village components include a comparatively small settlement with no central plaza that was occupied after the largest Allegheny Mountains region settlement, which also has the largest central plaza. This observation and data presented earlier contradict the ¤rst archaeological correlate for the third hypothesis, that increasingly larger village components appeared only later in the local developmental sequence. Although the presence of a central plaza at the ¤rst component of Petenbrink 1-1 indicates that the ¤rst villagers known to live in the region recognized the importance of incorporating a socially integrative facility into their nucleated settlement, the presence, absence, or size of a village’s central plaza is not dependent on its temporal position within the local chronological sequence (Means 2006a). However, if the size of a plaza was not time-dependent, a village’s plaza size could have been related to other factors. The second archaeo-

Comparative Analyses / 151 logical correlate for the third hypothesis argues that larger village components had a relatively larger plaza area and smaller dwelling area to plaza ratio to minimize tension and to allow for subsequent internal growth. The analyses presented in Means (2006a) do not strongly support this archaeological correlate. There was generally a strong relationship between a village’s overall size and the size of its plaza regardless of whether the village was large or small. This situation was true except for cases where settlement growth increased the number of dwellings without a concomitant increase in the plaza or if these additional dwellings encroached on the plaza. Plaza size was less closely related to total dwelling area. Thus, at least for ring-shaped Allegheny Mountains region village sites, plaza size more directly in®uenced overall village size than did the total number of residents, as re®ected in total dwelling area. How much space villagers devoted to plazas within their settlements was apparently related more closely to their willingness to create and maintain that space than to the number of people residing within the village settlement. The analyses of individual village components did not clearly support the archaeological correlate that there should be a greater incidence of dwellings that formed clusters in larger village components compared to smaller components and, thus, more formal corporate groups in larger village components. Dwelling clusters in smaller and larger villages could still re®ect meaningful differences in the types of village social groups, if there were signi¤cant differences in the number of individuals residing in the dwellings that comprised dwelling groups within village components. It is certainly necessary to have some notion regarding how many people lived in individual dwellings, dwelling clusters, or the village site as a whole to examine aspects of village social organizations that might have changed over time. With the exception of Fort Hill II and Gower I, most dwellings at individual villages housed nuclear families that generally ranged in size from seven to nine individuals per dwelling. Although these dwellings were typically occupied by single nuclear families of varying sizes, villages in this region were sometimes organized at levels of integration above that of individual households. The population structure at several village components indicates that individual nuclear family dwellings were frequently organized into dwelling clusters of varying size, and, in some cases, dwelling clusters were evident at more than one level within a village component (Table 5). At three village components, Gnagey 3-1, Peck 2-1, and Powell 2, multidwelling clusters were present that may have represented manifestations of a dual organization. Each half of the potential dual division at Peck 2-1 was further subdivided. One half of the dual division potentially contained two dwelling clusters, and the other half possibly encompassed three such clusters. At other components, dwelling clusters of varying size were also divided into smaller clusters (Table 5). The estimated number of residents within these dwelling clusters suggests

Comparative Analyses / 153 that they represented varying forms of social organization at different village components and more than one organizational level at a smaller number of components. Certainly, the small estimated population of the two dwelling clusters at Petenbrink 1-1 implies that these represented extended or multifamily households. Dwelling clusters at other village components also may have been manifestations of extended or multifamily households whose size depended on varying economic, political, or social ties between their members. However, at a few villages—notably the most recently occupied village component at Peck 2-2—dwelling clusters reached a size that attests to a level of social organization beyond extended or multifamily households. The courtyard group at Peck 2-2 had an estimated 98 residents and could have represented a lineage, clan, or something akin to a Lévi-Straussian house. In some cases, the subdivision of larger clusters into smaller clusters is reminiscent of clans with lineage subdivisions documented at South American and Plains Indian villages, discussed in Chapter 4. These larger dwelling clusters also could have represented Lévi-Straussian houses comprised of extended or multifamily households. Taken alone, the population estimates indicate that the basic social and economic unit at Allegheny Mountains region villages was the nuclear family, although individual families frequently combined to form larger social groups (Means 2006a, 2006b). These nuclear families apparently had their own economic interests that they pursued independently of the larger social groups of which they were a part. When not directly associated with individual dwellings, features are generally found dispersed throughout dwelling clusters for both larger and smaller village settlements. This ¤nding also contradicts the third archaeological correlate of the third hypothesis, which suggested that features more likely clustered in larger settlements than smaller settlements. Along with the presence of dwelling clusters in small and large villages, these data may indicate that village communities were not organized around lineages but rather perhaps around fairly ®exible cognatic systems or possibly Lévi-Straussian houses that generated different con¤gurations each time a village community was reestablished at a new location or a new community was formed out of an existing village. Certainly, no strong evidence for lineages is evident in mortuary data from Allegheny Mountains region village sites. Six of these sites may have cemeteries: Gnagey 3-2, Peck 2-1, Peck 2-2, Reckner, Powell 1, and Troutman. Contrary to the third hypothesis’s ¤fth archaeological correlate, these possible cemeteries are not more closely associated with larger than smaller village components, because Gnagey 3-2 and Peck 2-1 are fairly small and the remaining village components are relatively large. In most cases, the identi¤cation of cemeteries is quite tentative and depends on small clusters of graves that also could have been plots associated with individual families as

154 / Chapter 8 opposed to lineages or other equivalent social groups. The earliest potential cemetery is at Peck 2-1, which dated to approximately a.d. 1150, and the latest is associated with Peck 2-2, which was occupied nearly four centuries later. Because the number of cemeteries at these components does not correlate with the number of identi¤ed social groups, it appears that these cemeteries do not re®ect the past presence of lineages but are more likely individual family plots or communal plots used by the village as a whole. For the third hypothesis, other potential differences that were suggested between the social structure of smaller and larger village components are not well supported by available data. The ¤ndings on structure size variation indicate that the sixth archaeological correlate—that unusually large structures are more frequently associated with larger village components than smaller village components—is untrue. Few sites have strong evidence for dual organizations that were evident in the spatial arrangements of dwellings or features. Of sites with limited evidence for dual organizations, these did not more likely characterize larger village components than smaller village components, as had been suggested in the seventh archaeological correlate. As we saw above, most villages regardless of size and age of occupation—if known—had evidence for at least one level of social organization above that of individual households in the form of multifamily dwelling clusters with suf¤cient number of dwellings to meet Johnson’s (1978, 1982) criteria for the development of supra-household decision making. However, there is little evidence that larger village components more likely saw the development of a level of supra-household decision making that resulted in a formal village leader—the subject of the third hypothesis’s eighth and ¤nal archaeological correlate. In fact, the evidence for formal village leaders at Allegheny Mountains region village components is minimal, suggesting that supra-household decision making took place on an ad hoc basis—akin to one of Gearing’s structural poses. Many previous assertions regarding the cultural development of Allegheny Mountains region villages—for example, that the earliest villages will lack plazas and that larger villages will necessarily be more recent and more complex than smaller villages—are demonstrably not true. The broader implications of these ¤ndings regarding variability in Allegheny Mountains region village components are considered in Chapter 9.

9 Implications Drawn from Interpreting Community Organization through Village Spatial Layouts

The Late Prehistoric people who once lived in the Allegheny Mountains region of southwestern Pennsylvania, and who are associated with the archaeologically de¤ned Monongahela tradition, are known today largely from the ringshaped village settlements they once inhabited. A large number of these village sites have had their layouts completely exposed, seemingly rendering them well suited to detailed community pattern analyses. However, scholars have been unsuccessful in integrating studies of these ring-shaped village sites into cultural developments that took place throughout the Northeast during the Late Prehistoric period (Means 2006a) or into a broader anthropological understanding of the social groups represented by the remains of these village sites (considered in Chapter 3). One factor that curtailed a broader understanding of these village sites was the lack of a secure chronological framework for the Allegheny Mountains region. It was partly to address this factor that AMS dates were secured for a number of village components of previously unknown age. Chronological ordering of these village components enabled their examination within a local developmental sequence, facilitating both the modeling of social organization for individual components and the consideration of—or lack of—diachronic changes in village social organization. The other major factor that limited analyses of Allegheny Mountains region village sites was the perception by some scholars that the ring-shaped settlement was a unique cultural “trait” of the Monongahela tradition. In fact, the ring-shaped settlement layout was shown in Chapter 1 to have characterized the layouts of villages and other settlement types located around the globe and throughout time. A cross-cultural and cross-temporal review of ring-shaped settlements in Chapter 4 revealed several geometric models that could have been responsible for the distribution of some or all material remains at Allegheny Mountains region village sites and aspects of village social organization.

156 / Chapter 9 Outlined in Chapter 5, a series of models and hypotheses were then developed from this review. These were designed to ascertain the geometric model(s) underlying ring-shaped village sites. The models and hypotheses were tested in the individual and comparative analyses of village components presented in Chapters 7 and 8 according to methods and techniques described in Chapter 6. The remainder of this chapter is divided into three sections. In the ¤rst, a broad review is presented on the nature of the geometric models that potentially in®uence the layouts of all ring-shaped settlements. The second emphasizes major ¤ndings from the individual and comparative analyses of Allegheny Mountains region village settlements. These ¤ndings are integrated with the stronger chronological framework created through AMS dating of curated museum collections. The ¤nal section considers the implications of this work in terms of a broader understanding of ring-shaped settlements located outside the Allegheny Mountains region. SPATIAL PATTERNING IN RING-SHAPED SETTLEMENTS The spatial distribution of material elements at ring-shaped settlements was expected to take the form of two broad categories of patterning that are geometric in nature: concentric and circumferential. By de¤nition, ring-shaped settlements must exhibit concentric patterning at least in terms of their dwellings. In concentric patterning, a clear distinction is often exhibited between the settlement’s periphery—its ring of dwellings and associated features—and its center, or plaza. The latter may have an axis mundi—a centrally located post, ¤re, or other feature of ritual or ceremonial signi¤cance—that ties geometric models used to plan the settlement to native models of the cosmos. Ringshaped settlements may also exhibit circumferential patterning. Such patterning refers to the fact that social groups and material remains may form discrete clusters within and around the dwelling ring, somewhat analogous to pie wedges. In the introduction to this work, it was argued that the layouts of most Allegheny Mountains region village settlements were intentionally planned according to cognitive models that arranged social spaces and corresponding village social organizations using geometric frameworks when the villages were initially established. The spatial manifestation of these planned layouts was evident in the distribution of dwelling clusters around a fairly well de¤ned plaza. It was further argued that the geometric framework resulting from the con¤guration of dwellings around an open central plaza should also have generated geometric patterning in the distribution of activities. This was generally not the case. What geometric patterning was evident in the distribution of activities was much weaker than anticipated and not clearly associated with the

Implications from Interpreting Community Organization / 157 geometric models used to plan the ring-shaped settlements. Generally speaking, activities were almost randomly distributed in the occupation zone of a village component, although some activities were associated with individual dwellings or dwelling clusters. That is, most archaeological evidence for activities was found within or between dwellings or in the area behind dwellings that was usually bounded by an encircling palisade. The plazas, of course, were kept clear of most activities. That geometric models acting at Allegheny Mountains region village sites may have more strongly in®uenced the distribution of dwellings than other material remains does ¤nd support from extant writings on village social organizations. The concept of the Lévi-Straussian house considered in Chapter 3 emphasizes that physical dwellings serve to anchor people in space and time. Dwellings and dwelling clusters may also have represented a physical manifestation of the core structural poses taken by a community, particularly those associated with the corporate social groups that were present when a community was established. There also could have been other, fairly permanent structural poses that simply were not re®ected in the preserved remains from Allegheny Mountains region village sites. Personal and corporate group identities might have been displayed in ways that preserve poorly or not at all in the archaeological record. Dwellings could have been painted or decorated in varying fashions to display social group identity. Such identity may have also been indicated by tattooing or hairstyles, as was recorded ethnohistorically at Pomeioc and for other Eastern Woodlands groups (Feest 1978a, 1978b; Fenton 1978; Quinn 1985). Geometric models may not have acted as strongly at Allegheny Mountains region village sites on more ®eeting structural poses, such as those associated with cooperative economic tasks performed within corporate social groups. As a result, the activity structure of these village sites was apparently not as strongly geometric as ¤rst anticipated. It should be noted that artifact data were not always strong for individual village components. Although in cases where artifacts were present in relatively substantial quantities, there was simply little or no spatial variation among artifacts categorized according to different attributes. This was particularly true for cordage-twist impressions on ceramic vessels, which were overwhelmingly ¤nal Z-twist. MAJOR FINDINGS FROM THE ANALYSIS OF RING-SHAPED VILLAGES From the earliest and smallest village component at Petenbrink 1-1, to the most recent and most structurally complex village component at Peck 2-2, geometric models were a major factor that in®uenced the initial spatial layouts of village components, especially dwelling clusters that indicated social divisions within

158 / Chapter 9 a village. In most cases, the ring-shaped settlement layout was evidently a cultural ideal. Only Gnagey 3-1 de¤nitely lacked a central plaza and therefore did not have a true ring shape. Here, AMS dates show that Gnagey 3-2 was an expansion and recon¤guration of Gnagey 3-1 into the culturally ideal ring-shaped settlement form. This restructuring probably occurred after a suf¤ciently large area was cleared around Gnagey 3-1 or was related to an increase in village population and a concomitant expansion of the village labor pool. However, although the ring-shaped settlement model was in®uential in the initial establishment of Allegheny Mountains region settlements, this ideal layout was compromised at a number of settlements throughout their occupational histories, perhaps as a result of weak decision making at supra-household levels. At the site of Fort Hill, the smaller component’s plaza was considerably compromised by new dwelling construction, although villagers eventually rebuilt and enlarged their settlement into a larger component that had a more clearly de¤ned plaza. Of the seven geometric models considered here, the strongest support was noted for the general concentric model, which emphasizes that ring-shaped villages by de¤nition consist of at least two concentric zones: the plaza and an encircling ring of dwellings. A number of Allegheny Mountains region village components exhibited a third concentric zone between the exterior edge of the dwelling ring and the palisade wall that surrounded most of these village components. Strong support was also evident for the circumferential model in®uencing the distribution of dwellings, which formed dwelling clusters at all village components with suf¤ciently preserved dwelling patterns. Both concentric and circumferential models therefore usually in®uenced the placement of dwellings within a village component, indicating that the hub-and-spoke model is applicable to this class of architectural remains. The diametric model was not well supported, with the strongest evidence at a single site—Peck 2-1. Other geometric models that rely on the distribution of nonarchitectural remains were moderately supported at best—such as Yellen and Portnoy’s ring models or Dunnell’s functional radial model. Thus, the geometric models used to plan Allegheny Mountains region villages clearly in®uenced the spatial distribution of village social groups, whatever their size or composition, but had less in®uence on the distribution of features and artifacts. Various feature and artifact classes are not consistently con¤ned to discrete radial bands but rather are associated with individual dwellings or dwelling clusters and only incidentally form broad radial bands. This situation as evident at Allegheny Mountains region village sites is in sharp contrast to at least some contemporaneous Fort Ancient sites located to the west. As reviewed recently by Henderson and Pollack (2004:5), evidence of con-

Implications from Interpreting Community Organization / 159 centric and circumferential settlement organization is present at the SunWatch site. The concentric organization of SunWatch is more regimented than those of any of the Allegheny Mountains region village components studied here. Three radial zones were de¤ned at this site around its central plaza: a mortuary zone consisting of graves; a storage and refuse disposal zone consisting of storage/trash pits; and a residential zone consisting of domestic structures. These zones were divided circumferentially into segments present at two levels. The higher level was interpreted as a dual organization—perhaps a moiety— whereas the lower levels consisted of economically related households. The coarser geometric patterning at Allegheny Mountains region village sites further supports the notion that social controls on the village level were weak, and speci¤cally weaker than those evident at contemporary Fort Ancient village sites. Mortuary data from Allegheny Mountains region village components lend further credence to this conclusion. Little evidence was found of status distinctions in grave architecture, associated funerary remains, or the locations of interred individuals—although a few components had remains that might have represented village leaders or magico-religious practioners. Given this coarser geometric patterning, the AMS dates on the Allegheny Mountains region village components indicate that the layout of a speci¤c village depended on unique historical circumstances, including the size and number of discrete social groups that founded the village. Some villages may have resulted from a small number of families that left a parent village and founded a daughter village with representatives of the social groups in the parent village. Other villages may have been founded by a wholesale relocation of an older village, with the layout of the new village more closely re®ecting the size and number of social groups as they existed at the end of the occupation at the previous village location. Two or more previously independent villages may have merged to form a single settlement, with each village’s discrete social groups occupying different segments of the new settlement. Finally, the size of a village settlement could also have been related to the strength of the new settlement’s leader. Contrary to expectations based on a reading of the literature, ring-shaped Allegheny Mountains region villages that are more recent in the local developmental sequence do not necessarily have better designed layouts than older village components. Although the number of village components in the region still remains small, community pattern analyses enable some general conclusions to be reached about the nature of village social organizations and whether these changed through time. At all village components where dwelling patterns were not compromised by postdepositional or other factors, individual households clearly had given up some autonomy and there existed some form of formal economic, social, or ideological links among some households. These formal

160 / Chapter 9 links varied in strength from village components that consisted of clusters of 2 or 3 dwellings with approximately 15 to 20 residents each that likely represented an extended family or at least 2 households joined socially and economically, to village components with 2 to 6 larger dwelling clusters that had 30 to 100 residents each. These clusters could have represented lineage segments, clans, or perhaps a form of social organization akin to the Lévi-Straussian house concept. In Chapter 8, we saw that the number and estimated populations of these dwelling clusters varied considerably between village components and were not directly related to village size or temporal placement. The presence of these clusters at all Allegheny Mountains region village components with suf¤ciently preserved dwelling patterns showed that their residential populations were formally linked rather than autonomous from the smallest and earliest village component—Petenbrink 1-1—to the latest and most structurally complex village component—Peck 2-2. However, corporate group identity apparently remained relatively weak at most villages through time, even at village components with large dwelling clusters. Village sites that consisted of large multidwelling social groups were expected to have had some form of supra-household social organization (Johnson 1978, 1982). Perhaps leaders of these larger social groups lived in the few relatively large structures commonly present in each of these dwelling clusters. In only a small number of cases do mortuary data indicate the possible presence of community leaders. Generally, most graves consist of individuals interred with no associated cultural remains or with a small number of personal items. Mortuary remains and dwelling distribution data do not strongly support the proposition that status distinctions in®uenced village spatial organizations at Allegheny Mountains region village components. Although graves at some village sites may have been organized into cemeteries, the number of cemeteries did not correspond to the number of discrete social groups at these sites. This alone shows that evidence for multidwelling clusters representing lineages is weak. Evidence for other types of social groups that one might have expected at Monongahela tradition village sites is limited and ambiguous. In a few cases, the possible presences of sodality structures—such as men’s houses—are documented at several village components based on the presence of unusually large structures or structures placed in the otherwise empty village plaza. However, at least some unusually large structures could have represented multifamily dwellings rather than sodality structures along the lines of a men’s house. Very little support was found for the presence of potential dual organizations that were re®ected spatially in the layouts of village components. Only one village component has comparatively strong evidence for a dual division represented

Implications from Interpreting Community Organization / 161 by the presence of two large clusters of dwellings, features, and functional artifact classes that each occupied roughly half of the village component. Stylistic artifact data are not available to further evaluate this possible dual division. A unique form of social organization for a village site was encountered at Peck 2-2, the most recent village component in the Allegheny Mountains region. Here, part of the dwelling ring that surrounded a large central plaza consisted of a discrete dwelling cluster that was arranged around its own central open area, resembling a courtyard. This courtyard group had the strongest corporate identity of any social group documented at an Allegheny Mountains region village site. CONCLUSIONS Within a relatively small corpus of village components, even the casual reader of this work must be struck with the diversity evident in village community patterns that were designed according to the same basic settlement layout— that of a ring of dwellings around an open central plaza. The ring-shaped settlement layout acted as a very ®exible framework that accommodated village social organizations of varying sizes and levels of complexity. This geometrically based settlement layout was applied to small and large settlements alike and was even recon¤gured to meet the changing needs of different communities throughout their occupational histories. No single geometric model was found that was used uniquely by the inhabitants of the Allegheny Mountains region during the Late Prehistoric period. Contrary to the expectations of some regional scholars for a culturally speci¤c settlement model, these villagers more commonly adhered to a very general concentric model. Nor did overall site size and apparent structural complexity exhibit a stepwise progression from smaller to larger or less complex to more complex settlements. Rather, the geometric layout of Allegheny Mountains region village sites created a physical framework that provided structure—a place—for village social groups within the occupation zone of ring-shaped villages. Social, ideological, and economic interaction took place minimally at three levels: within the household; within larger social groups ¤xed in locations along segments of the dwelling ring; and within the plaza for the community as a whole. This interaction maintained and created the village community, “a core of individuals who interact regularly and whose repeated interactions socially reproduce the group” (Kolb and Snead 1997:611). As with other ring-shaped settlements, the plaza of an Allegheny Mountains region village was the principal social space within the village. A close correspondence between plaza size and village size was documented for most of these village sites (Means 2006a). The generally large size of these village plazas

162 / Chapter 9 ensured that there were few limits placed on the number of people who could have participated in communal ceremonies, thus enhancing social integration (Hegmon 1989:7). Rituals and ceremonies that took place in the plaza would have helped to regulate intracommunity relations between a community’s constituent social groups (Moore 1996:789; Rappaport 1971:60; Schachner 2001:170). Hegmon (1989:6) emphasized the importance of community rituals and ceremonies for maintaining order in sedentary societies with noncoercive leadership—such as was likely the case in the Allegheny Mountains region. We saw that this region’s village components were recon¤gured to include plazas if they were initially absent—as was true for Gnagey 3-1 and Gnagey 3-2—or if intrasettlement growth intruded into the public sphere represented by the plaza—as was the case for Fort Hill I and Fort Hill II. Because rituals and ceremonies take center stage in “middle-range societies”— that is, societies with noncoercive leadership (Schachner 2001:168–170)— manipulation of the plaza space was one method that could have been followed to legitimize asymmetric power relationships. The courtyard group at Peck 2-2 may have represented an attempt by that social group’s residents to enhance and maintain a stronger role in village society than the other two or three social groups present in that village community. The relocation of a ceremonial post from the village’s plaza—accessible to all—to the courtyard’s center—accessible to few—may show that the residents of the courtyard group co-opted some aspect of village ceremonies to enhance their social standing within the community. The examination of Allegheny Mountains region village components in accordance with models based on a cross-cultural and cross-temporal review of ring-shaped settlements has been a worthwhile endeavor. We learned that geometric patterning is most evident in the con¤guration of dwellings and less evident in the distribution of activities represented by artifacts and features. The fact that residents of these village settlements did not exhibit the same rigidity in the application of geometric patterning seen at contemporary Fort Ancient village sites tells us something about the comparative strength of village social organizations between the two regions. Notably, village social organizations were apparently stronger at some Fort Ancient village sites because the organization of space at these sites was more regimented and more carefully maintained than we saw in the Allegheny Mountains region. The possible geometric patterns that the material traces of a ring-shaped settlement can take are quite diverse, and ascertaining underlying geometric patterning itself is not suf¤cient for understanding a particular society. Thus, it is not clear whether the relatively weak geometric patterning found here in Monongahela tradition villages would not also be characteristic of the physical traces of most ring-shaped settlements, regardless of the nature or com-

Implications from Interpreting Community Organization / 163 plexity of the society that produced the settlements. One needs always to take into consideration variation over time and space—including local historical developments—and not rely solely on idealized models to interpret patterning within any settlement’s layout in social terms. Extension of the modeling process beyond the Allegheny Mountains region should stimulate a broader understanding of the Late Prehistoric inhabitants of the Northeast. This might especially be the case if the “cultural” af¤liations of sites are downplayed in their analyses. Tools and techniques presented in this work to objectively analyze and directly compare the spatial structure of ring-shaped settlements should be used in concert with the models related to geometric patterning outlined here. This approach could further move archaeologists in the Eastern Woodlands beyond a preoccupation with trait lists or presumed “cultural” af¤liations and toward a more anthropologically useful delineation of village social organizations.

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Index

abandonment of villages, theories explaining, 21–22, 26 accelerator mass spectrometry (AMS). See AMS (accelerator mass spectrometry) African tribal groups, 48–49, 55–56, 63 agricultural lifestyle, 14–15, 81 alignments, celestial, 51–52, 61 Allegheny High Plateau, 17 Allegheny Mountains region, 16–18, 17 Allegheny Mountains region sites: and accelerator mass spectrometry, 10, 23, 27t–29t, 81–82, 145–50; area of, 89–90, 147, 147–49; artifact classes and distribution, 101, 144, 157; on the Casselman River, 106–20; ceramics, 144; chronological sequences, 145–49, 148, 155; community leaders, 154, 162; community patterns in, 81–85; complexity of, 150–54; cordage-twist impressions, 144, 157; cultural variability and change, 81–84; curvilinear ®oor plans, 44, 97; dating of, 10, 23–26, 27t–29t, 30, 81–82, 88, 145–50, 155; dwelling clustering, 144, 152t; excavations of, 9–11, 10, 25t; formally linked households, 143–44; geometric models, 8–9, 40, 142–43, 158–59; household studies of, 76; increasing size of, 82–83; and the Late Prehistoric period, 155–62; layout of, 11, 41, 159; material remains, 92– 95; merging, splitting or relocation of, 112, 159; near Con®uence, PA, 120–33; near Stony Creek, 133–137; near Wills Creek, 137–141; orientation of, 90; plazas, 20, 150, 161–62; population estimates, 109t,

152t; settling of, 1, 26; social organization in, 75–81, 143–44, 160–61; social spaces, 107t; variations among, 145–54. See also Monongahela tradition; names of individual sites; ring-shaped villages AMS (accelerator mass spectrometry): dating of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 10, 14, 22–30, 27–29t, 81–82, 88, 112, 146–50, 155–156, 159 analytical approaches and community patterns, 86 ancestral veneration, 38 Apinayé (Brazil), 48, 50 Appalachian Plateau Province, 17 archaeology, goals of, 66–67 architectural elements, 11, 41–43, 88, 90–91, 95 area (of villages), 82–83, 89–90, 147–50 artifact classes and distribution: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 101, 144, 157; at Fort Hill, 126–27; at Gnagey 3, 110– 11; patterns of, 92–95, 101; at Peck 1, 116; at Peck 2, 119 artifact classes and distribution data: geometric models, 92–95 autonomous households, 77, 81, 85, 90, 143, 160 axis mundi, 52, 108, 118–119, 121, 123, 126, 156 back regions, 57, 72, 95, 101, 119, 137, 142 Bantu (southern Africa), 48–49, 64 Big Horn medicine wheel, 50–52 bone tools, 93 Bororo (Brazil), 47–49, 63–64

190 / Index Brazilian tribal villages, 3–4, 38, 45, 47–50, 53– 57, 63–65, 70–71, 149 built environments, 41–43 burial feature data, 88. See also graves; mortuary analysis calendrical purposes for site layouts, 51–52 Camayura (Brazil), 56 camping circles of Plains Indian groups, 3, 45–47, 47, 50–52, 63–64 Canella (Brazil), 48, 56 Carnegie Museum of Natural History, 24, 88 Carr’s index of polythetic association. See polythetic association, coef¤cient of Casselman River, 17–18, 20, 106–20, 123 celestial events, 50–52, 61 cemeteries. See graves Central Brazilian tribal villages. See Brazilian tribal villages centrally located ¤res, 3, 4, 20, 52, 156 central plazas. See plazas central pole, 60–61 ceramics: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 144; cordage-twist impressions, 76, 79, 94–95, 144, 157; decoration on, 94; at Fort Hill, 127; at Gnagey 3, 110; limestonetempered, 26; Mayer-Oakes ceramic typology, 26; and organic residues, 4, 10, 23; at Peck 1, 116; shell-tempered, 26; style zones, 61–62; variations among, 93–95 ceremonial posts, 117, 125, 126–28, 162 ceremonies and rituals, 3, 4, 38, 51, 71, 73–75, 118, 162 chert quarry sites, 20 Cheyenne, 50–52 chipped stone tools, 93 chronological sequence of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 145–50, 148, 155 circular histograms, 103–105, 104 circular statistics, 102–5 circumferential models: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 40, 142–143, 158–59; and Clouse, 121–122; and cordage-twist patterns, 95; and diametric models, 61; and dwellings, 90–91, 96; and Emerick, 140– 141; and Fort Hill, 126, 128; and Gnagey 3, 110–12; graph of, 105; and Hanna, 124; and Peck 2, 119–20; and Petenbrink 1, 113; and

Powell 1, 134–35; and Powell 2, 136; and Reckner, 132, 133; of ring-shaped villages, 9, 61–65, 62, 74–75, 156; and social organization, 63–64 clans, 36, 45, 63–64, 151. See also descent groups; lineages Clemson’s Island culture taxon, 16 climatic downturn, 21–22, 26, 82, 149 Clouse site, 25t, 107t, 120–22 clustering, locational. See pure locational clustering clustering of dwellings. See dwelling clustering coef¤cient of polythetic association. See polythetic association, coef¤cient of communal area. See plazas communal structures, 33. See also cooperative behavior; corporate social organization community, de¤nition of, 31–34 community leaders, 114, 120, 135, 138–40, 154, 160. See also headmen community organization, 6–8, 40, 45, 70–75, 101. See also social organization community patterns: of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 81–85; analytical approaches to, 86; and chronological sequence, 145–49; and dwelling con¤guration, 90–91; geometric models of, 66–67; at Gnagey 3, 107, 110; and maize agriculture, 85; at Peck 2, 119; and plazas, 92; variations among, 150–51 community systems, 33, 66 competition over resources, 149 complexity of villages, 150–54 computer-assisted design software, 95 concentric models: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 40, 90, 92, 105, 143, 156, 158–59; and Brazilian tribal villages, 70– 71; calendrical purposes of, 51–52; and Clouse, 121; and diametric models, 54–55; and Emerick, 139, 141; and Fort Hill, 128; and Gnagey 3, 110–11; and Hanna, 123–24; and Lévi-Strauss, 70–71; and Peck 1, 116; and Peck 2, 118–119; and Petenbrink 1, 113; and Powell 1, 135; and Powell 2, 136; and Reckner, 131; of ring-shaped villages, 48–61, 50, 51, 71–74, 156; and Troutman, 138–39 Con®uence, PA, sites near, 120–33

Index / 191 cooperative behavior, 42, 44, 85, 157. See also corporate social organization cordage-twist impressions, 76, 79, 94–95, 144, 157 corporate social organization, 32, 36, 44, 76– 81, 85, 94–95, 99, 157, 160–161 cosmological associations, 45–47, 49–52, 61, 102, 126, 156 courtyard group, 118–20, 151, 161–62 Cultural Resource Management, 88 culture-historic taxa, 15–16, 146 curated organic remains, 10, 23–25, 30, 156 curvilinear ®oor plans, 44, 97 data sources, 87–89 dating. See AMS (accelerator mass spectrometry); radiocarbon dating daughter settlements, 83, 108, 149, 159 debris, cultural, 55–56, 93. See also refuse disposal decoration on ceramics, 94. See also cordagetwist impressions descent groups, 36. See also clans; lineages diametric models: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 40, 142, 158; and circumferential models, 61; and concentric models, 54– 55; and cordage-twist patterns, 95; and Gnagey 3, 111; and hub-and-spoke model, 65; and moieties, 78–79; and Peck 2, 119; of ring-shaped villages, 45–48, 46, 64, 70– 71, 74, 90, 95, 100 directional statistics, 102–5. See also circular statistics dispersed community, de¤nition of, 32 distribution of artifact classes. See artifact classes and distribution drought conditions, 22 dual organizations: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 78–79, 84, 90–91, 144, 160; and diametric models, 45; at Fort Hill, 129; “fuzzy” dualism, 53; at Gnagey 3, 112; at Powell 2, 137; and ring-shaped villages, 31, 36, 48–49, 55, 84. See also moieties Dunnell’s radial model: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 143, 158; and Clouse, 121; and Emerick, 141; and Gnagey 3, 111; and Hanna, 124; and Peck 1, 116; and Powell 2,

136; of ring-shaped villages, 57–61, 59, 73– 74, 91 dwelling clustering: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 142–44, 152t, 160–61; at Clouse, 121–22; at Emerick, 140–141; at Fort Hill, 126–29; and geometric models, 95–96; of Gnagey 3, 108–12, 151; at Gower, 131; at Hanna, 123–24; at Peck 1, 115–16; at Peck 2, 119–20, 151; at Petenbrink 1, 113–14; at Powell 1, 134–35; at Powell 2, 136–137, 151; pure locational clustering, 101; at Reckner, 133; and social interactions, 42, 44, 62, 76–81, 84, 96; and social organization, 154, 156–58; and spaces between dwellings, 92; varying number of residents, 151–52, 152t. See also formally linked households dwellings: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 19; and community patterns, 33, 67, 90–91; construction of, 15; ®oor area estimates, 96–98; of headmen, 33, 64–65; size of, 96, 109t; and Lévi-Straussian houses, 37–38; and social status, 80. See also dwelling clustering Earth People, 46 Emerick site, 25t, 29t, 107t, 109t, 139–41, 140, 152t emic (insiders’) viewpoint, 70 etic (outsiders’) viewpoint, 70 excavations of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 9, 10, 18, 23, 25t, 87–89 expansion of villages, 114, 131, 137, 139 ¤eld methodology, 87–88 formally linked households: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 77, 143–44; and dwelling clusters, 160; at Emerick, 141; at Fort Hill, 128–29; at Gower, 131; at Hanna, 124; and nuclear families, 159– 60; at Peck 2, 120; at Powell 1, 135; at Powell 2, 137; at Reckner, 133; at Troutman, 139 Fort Ancient culture taxon, 15–16 Fort Ancient Mayo village site, 57–59, 58, 59, 61–62, 94 Fort Ancient sites: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 158–59, 161–62

192 / Index Fort Ancient Sun Watch site, 44, 59–62, 60, 94, 159 Fort Hill site, 25t, 27t, 107t, 109t, 124–29, 125, 146, 150, 151, 152t, 158, 161 front regions, 57, 72–73, 95, 101, 111, 133, 137, 142 funerary objects, 118, 119, 133, 138–41, 159 fur trade, 22 “fuzzy” dualism, 53–54, 57, 74 geometric center of villages, 89, 95, 102 geometric models: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 6, 8–9, 40, 142–43, 158–59; artifact classes and distribution data, 92–95; and ceramic variations, 94–95; and circular statistics, 103–5; and Clouse, 121–22; and community patterns, 67; and corporate social organization, 157; dwelling clustering and, 95–96; and Emerick, 141; and Fort Hill, 128; and Gnagey 3, 111–12; and Gower, 131; and Hanna, 124; and intrasite spatial analysis, 157–58; overlapping of, 7; and Peck 1, 114, 116; and Peck 2, 119–20; and Petenbrink 1, 113–14; and Powell 1, 135; ; and Powell 2, 136–37; and Reckner, 133; and recon¤guration of villages, 150; of ring-shaped villages, 5, 40, 45–68, 70–75, 142, 155–57; and social organization, 5–8, 11–12, 156–57; and Troutman, 139. See also circumferential models; concentric models; diametric models; Dunnell’s radial model; hub-and-spoke models; Portnoy’s ring model; Yellen’s ring model George, Richard, 89 Glaciated Section of the Appalachian Plateau Province, 17 Gnagey 3 site, 23, 25t, 25–26, 29; 89, 104, 105, 106–12, 108, 149, 150, 151, 152t Gower site, 25t, 28t, 107t, 109t, 129–31 grave goods, 99 grave orientations, 99, 104 graves: and ancestral veneration, 38; and dwelling clusters, 78, 84, 98; at Emerick, 139–41; and energy expenditure, 99; at Fort Hill, 126–27, 128; at Gnagey 3, 110–12, 153; grave goods, 99; as nonarchitectural features, 91; orientations of, 99, 104; at Peck 2, 118–19, 153; at Powell 1, 135, 153; at

Reckner, 131–33, 153; and social organization, 160; and social status, 80, 98–99; at SunWatch, 159; at Troutman, 138–39, 153. See also mortuary analysis Great Depression, 18, 133 groundstone tools, 93 group cooperation, 15 hamlets, 20–22, 32, 85 Hanna site, 25t, 107t, 109t, 120, 123–24, 152t headmen, 33, 48, 54, 64–65, 141. See also community leaders hearths, 55, 91, 108, 110, 113, 121, 123, 126 histograms, circular, 103–105, 104. See also rose plots Hon’gashenu (Earth people), 46, 47 houses and households: archaeological approach, 44; autonomous, 77; and clans, 63; de¤nition of, 34, 43–44; and formal links, 77–78; lineages, clans or Lévi-Straussian houses, 12, 76–77, 89, 94, 112, 128–29, 135, 137, 142, 144, 151, 160; studies of, 76. See also dwellings; formally linked households; Lévi-Strauss, Claude houses and societies of houses (Lévi-Strauss), 5, 37–39, 98–99, 151, 153 hub-and-spoke models: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 40, 158; and Clouse, 122; and diametric models, 65; and Emerick, 141; and Fort Hill, 128; and Gnagey 3, 112; and Hanna, 124; and ring-shaped villages, 65, 66, 75, 142 image of the universe, 45 imago mundi, 45 Inshta’çunda (Sky people), 46, 47 integrative functions of plazas, 52–53 intensive agriculture of maize, 21 intrasite spatial analysis: at Fort Hill, 126–27; and geometric models, 157–58; at Gnagey 3, 110–11; and Peck 2, 119; at Peck 1, 115–16; techniques, 86, 93, 100–102, 144 Iowa (tribe), 46 Iroquois (tribe), 22, 44, 103 Kansa (tribe), 46 Kapòto village (Brazil), 38

Index / 193 Kayapó (Brazil), 48 kinship and descent groups, 36, 64. See also clans; lineages kinship studies, 36–37 !Kung bushmen (Africa), 55–56, 63 Late Prehistoric period: Allegheny Mountains region sites, 1, 155–62; and culture-historic taxa, 15–16; maize agriculture, 13–15, 21 leaders, community. See community leaders Lévi-Strauss, Claude: and circumferential patterning, 61; and concentric models, 48–49, 71–72; and diametric models, 45, 46, 70–71; and geometric models, 5, 70; and gradations of sacredness, 54; houses and societies of houses, 5, 8, 12, 37–39, 98–99, 151, 153, 157, 160; and ring-shaped villages, 45. See also dwelling clustering; houses and households limestone-tempered ceramics, 26, 93–94 limited activity procurement camps, 20 lineages, 36, 153–54, 160. See also clans; houses and households; kinship and descent groups local developmental sequence, 155 localized exogamous moieties, 47–48 Maison and Sociétés à Maison. See houses and societies of houses (Lévi-Strauss) maize agriculture, 13–15, 21, 81–82, 85 maps: Allegheny Mountains region, 17; Clouse, 122; Emerick, 140; Fort Ancient Mayo site, 58; Fort Ancient SunWatch site, 60; Fort Hill, 125; Gnagey 3, 108; Gower, 130; Hanna, 123; Monongahela tradition, 2; Omarakana, 51; Peck 1, 115; Peck 2, 117; Petenbrink 1, 113; Powell 1, 134; Powell 2, 136; Reckner, 132; Troutman, 138; villages in Somerset County, 10; Zulu homestead, 49 material culture, 3, 11, 37, 89, 92–95, 146 Mayer-Oakes ceramic typology, 19, 26 Mayo village site. See Fort Ancient Mayo village site Mbengokre ring-shaped villages (Brazil), 38 medicine wheels, 50–52, 61 Mehinaku Village (Brazil), 53–55, 57, 64

men’s sodalities, 36–37, 79–80, 131, 136–37 merging of villages, 159 Meyerdale Bypass Project, 88 models. See geometric models moieties, 36, 45–48, 63, 78–79 Monongahela culture, 1–3, 12, 15–16 Monongahela taxon, 1–2, 16 Monongahela tradition, 2, 16, 18–23, 31, 81, 120, 155 Monongahela tradition people, 3, 8, 22–23, 42 Monongahela tradition villages. See Allegheny Mountains region sites Montague, 25t, 120 Montgomery Complex culture taxon, 16 mortuary analysis, 98–99, 126–27. See also graves multifamily corporate groups: at Emerick, 139–140; at Fort Hill, 126–28; at Gnagey 3, 112; at Gower, 130–31; at Hanna, 123, at Peck 1, 116; at Peck 2, 120; at Petenbrink 1, 113; at Powell 1, 133–34; at Powell 2, 136–37; at Troutman, 137 multifamily dwellings, 116, 160 nearest neighbor analysis, 100–101, 110, 113, 116–17, 126–27, 131, 144 nonarchitectural elements, 11, 44, 87–89, 91– 92, 100, 158 noncoercive leadership, 162 Northwestern Gê (Brazil), 54 nuclear families: as base unit of social organization, 151, 153; at Emerick, 139; and formally linked households, 159–60; at Fort Hill, 126; at Gnagey 3, 110, 112; at Gower, 130–31; at Petenbrink 1, 112–14; at Powell 1, 133; at Powell 2, 136; at Reckner, 131; at Troutman, 137 nucleated villages, 6, 14–15, 21, 32–35 Omaha (tribe), 46–47, 47 Omarakana village (New Guinea), 49, 51, 54, 64 open plaza areas. See plazas organic remains, 10, 23–24, 27t orientation of graves, 99, 104, 119 orientation of villages, 89–90 Osage (tribe), 46, 63–64

194 / Index overall village data, 89–90 Owasco cultural taxon, 16 palisade walls: and Allegheny Mountain region sites, 19, 90, 100; at Emerick, 139, 141; at Fort Hill, 127; and geometric models, 157–58; at Gnagey 3, 110–11; at Gower, 129– 30; at Peck 1, 114; at Peck 2, 117–18; at Powell 2, 135; at Reckner, 131 pattern recognition in spatial relationships, 86, 93, 100–102 Peck 1 site, 25t, 27t, 107t, 109t, 114–16, 115, 149 Peck 2 site: 25t, 28t, 107t, 109t, 116–20, 117, 151, 152t, 153, 154, 161–62 petal-shaped structures: at Allegheny Mountains region sites, 20 Petenbrink 1 site, 25t, 107t, 109t, 112–14, 113, 150–51, 152t, 153 physiography of the Allegheny Mountain region, 16–18, 17 pit features: at Clouse, 121; at Emerick, 141; at Fort Hill, 126–27; and geometric models, 67; at Gnagey 3, 108, 110; at Hanna, 123–24; and nonarchealogical features, 91; at Peck 1, 114–15; at Petenbrink 1, 113; at Powell 2, 135–36; at Reckner, 132; at Troutman, 137 Pittsburgh Section of the Appalachian Plateau Province, 17 Plains Indian groups: camping circles, 3, 45– 47, 50–52, 63–64; medicine wheels, 50–52, 61; village social divisions at, 129, 159 plazas: Allegheny Mountains region sites, 2, 19–20, 150, 161–62; as axis mundi, 52; and community patterns, 84, 91–92; and debris, 55–56; at Emerick, 139; at Fort Hill, 125–28; at Gnagey 3, 107–08, 110–11; at Gower, 129–30; at Hanna, 123–24; integrative functions of, 52–53; mean distances from, 58–59; at Peck 1, 114, 116; at Peck 2, 117–18; at Petenbrink 1, 112, 150–51; at Pomeioc, 3, 4; at Powell 1, 134; at Powell 2, 135; at Reckner, 131; and ring-shaped villages, 6, 11, 40, 102, 142–43, 156–58; size of, 53, 83, 89–90, 95, 150; at Troutman, 137 polythetic association, coef¤cient of, 100–101, 144; at Fort Hill, 126–27; at Gnagey 3, 110;

at Peck 1, 116; at Peck 2, 117, 119; at Petenbrink 1, 113; at Reckner, 131 Pomeioc (North Carolina), 3, 4, 52, 157 Ponca (tribe), 46 Ponto Village (Brazil), 56, 65 Poorly Known Tribes of the Ohio Valley and Interior, 1 population estimates: of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 82–83, 96–98, 109t, 143, 151, 152t, 160; of Emerick, 139, 141; of Fort Hill, 125–29, 146; of Gnagey 3, 107; of Hanna, 124; increases in, 146–57; of Peck 1, 114; of Peck 2, 117–18; of Petenbrink 1, 112; of Powell 1, 135; of Troutman, 137 Portnoy’s ring model, 57, 72, 91–92, 101; and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 142, 158; at Hanna, 124; at Gnagey 3, 111; at Peck 1, 116; at Peck 2, 119; at Powell 2, 137; at Reckner, 133 post-enclosed features: of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 19–20, 90; at Clouse, 121; at Emerick, 139; at Fort Hill, 126; at Gnagey 3, 110; at Peck 1, 114; at Peck 2, 120; at Powell 1, 134; at Powell 2, 135; at Reckner, 132; at Troutman, 138 Potomac River, 16–17, 20, 137 Powell 1 site, 25t, 107t, 109t, 133–35, 134, 152t, 153 Powell 2 site, 25t, 107t, 109t, 151, 152t; of, 135– 37, 136 pure locational clustering: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 100–101, 144; at Emerick, 140–41; at Fort Hill, 127–29; at Gnagey 3, 108, 111; at Hanna, 124; at Peck 2, 118–19; at Petenbrink 1, 113; at Powell 1, 134–35; at Powell 2, 136–37; at Reckner, 132 Quemahoning/Alwine site, 23, 25t, 89 radial models and patterning, 53–54. See also Dunnell’s radial model, “fuzzy” dualism radiocarbon dating: of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 19, 23–30, 81–82, 88, 146; of Fort Hill, 124; of Gnagey 3, 89, 107; of Gower, 129; of Peck 1, 114; of Peck 2, 117; of Troutman, 137. See also AMS (accelerator mass spectrometry)

Index / 195 Reckner site, 25t, 28t, 107t, 109t, 131–33, 132, 152t, 153 recon¤guration of villages, 142, 150; at Gnagey 3, 107–8, 110; at Fort Hill, 124– 25, 129 refuse disposal, 7, 56, 62, 110, 127, 159 relocation of villages, 159 residential corporate groups, 44. See also formally linked households ring models: Portnoy’s, 57, 72, 91–92, 95, 101, 137, 142, 158; Yellen’s, 55–57, 71–72, 91–92, 142, 158 ring-shaped villages: axis mundi, 52, 156; and celestial events, 51–52, 61; community patterns and dwelling con¤gurations, 90–91; cosmological associations, 45–47, 49–52, 104; as cultural ideal, 158; diversity among, 161; dualism in, 48–49, 84; geometric center of, 89, 95; and geometric models, 40, 45–68, 70–75, 124, 142, 155–57; and gradations of sacredness, 53–54; and image of the universe, 45; and Lévi-Strauss, 45; moieties, 45– 48; of the Monongahela tradition, 3–4; and plazas, 142, 158; radial patterning, 53–54, 57–63, 59; and semicircular arcs, 130; and social organization, 5, 40–41; use of circular statistics, 103–5; worldwide, 3–6, 45, 155. See also names of individual sites rituals and ceremonies, 38, 71, 73–75, 118, 162 rockshelters, 20 rose plots, 103. See also histograms, circular Ryan site, 20 sacredness, gradations of, 53–54 Saddle site, 21 SCRE (Somerset County, Pennsylvania, Relief Excavations). See excavations of Allegheny Mountains region sites secondary inhumations, 140 semicircular arc of dwellings, 129–131 Seneca (tribe), 22 Serénte (Brazil), 48 shamans, 80, 98, 120. See also community leaders shell-tempered ceramics, 26

Shenks Ferry site, 99 skeletal remains of the Monongahela tradition, 97–98 Sky people, 46 slash-and-burn agriculture, 15, 38 social interactions, 42, 44, 76–85, 96 social organization: and agricultural lifestyle, 81; and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 76–85, 144, 160; and ceramic variations, 94–95; within a community, 34–39; corporate, 77–78, 85, 95, 99, 127–28, 157; and dual organizations, 8, 11, 36; and dwelling clustering, 157; at Emerick, 141; at Fort Hill, 128; and geometric models, 5–8, 11–12, 63–64, 156–57; at Gower, 131; and graves, 160; at Hanna, 124; increasing complexity of, 83–85; and the nuclear family, 153; at Peck 1, 116; at Powell 1, 135; at Powell 2, 137; and refuse disposal, 62; and ring-shaped villages, 5, 40–41; and social spaces, 43, 156–57; and sodalities, 79– 80; at Troutman, 139. See also community organization social spaces, 107t, 156–57. See also plazas social status: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 144; and circumferential models, 64–65; and diametric models, 48; at Fort Hill, 129; and graves, 98–99; little evidence of marked distinctions, 160; and location of dwellings, 64–65, 80–81, 118, 129; at Peck 2, 120; and radial patterning, 54; and ring-shaped villages, 9; and social organization, 80 sodalities: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 9, 36–37, 144, 160; at Emerick, 141; at Fort Hill, 128–129; and models of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 79–80, 84– 85; at Peck 2, 120; at Reckner, 133; at Powell 2, 137; and social organization, 31, 34, 36–37, 79–80; and unusually large structures, 84, 91 Somerset County, PA, physiography of, 17, 17–18 Somerset County, Pennsylvania, Relief Excavations (SCRE). See excavations of Allegheny Mountains region sites Somerset County Archaeological Society, 88

196 / Index spatial analysis, intrasite. See intrasite spatial analysis The State Museum of Pennsylvania, 24, 25t, 88 statistics, circular, 102–5 stature estimates, 97–98 status. See social status Stony Creek, village sites near, 133–37 storage facilities: of Allegheny Mountains region sites, 11, 19–20, 90; at Emerick, 139– 40; at Fort Hill, 126; at Peck 2, 118–19; at Petenbrink 1, 113; at Powell 2, 136–37; at Reckner, 132; at Troutman, 138 structural poses, 35–36. See also social organization Sun Dance lodges, 52 Sun Watch site. See Fort Ancient Sun Watch site supra-household social organization, 34–35, 76, 81, 84, 154, 158, 160 Suyá (Brazil), 53 Throckmorton site, 77 topographic factors and village layouts, 41, 90, 95, 106, 121, 133, 137 Troutman site, 25t, 28t, 107t, 109t, 137–39, 138, 153

unconstrained clustering, 100–101; of Fort Hill, 127; of Gnagey 3, 110; of Peck 1, 116; of Peck 2, 118–19; of Reckner, 131 vernacular architecture, 42 villages: de¤nition of, 31–34. See also Allegheny Mountains region sites visual inspection of sites: and Allegheny Mountains region sites, 86, 95, 100; at Clouse, 121; at Fort Ancient Mayo village, 58; at Fort Hill, 126; at Hanna, 124; Peck 2, 117, 119; at Powell 2, 137; at Reckner, 131 Watson Brake mound complex (Louisiana), 3–4 White, John, 3 Wills Creek, village sites near, 137–41 Winnebago (tribe), 46 Yanomamö (Brazil), 149 Yellen’s ring model, 55–57, 56, 71–72, 91–92, 141–42, 158; at Fort Hill, 128; at Gnagey 3, 111; at Hanna, 124; at Peck 1, 116; at Petenbrink 1, 113 Youghiogheny River, 17 Zulu (southern Africa), 48, 49