When a 2022 dig at the Historic First Baptist Church site uncovered a few lone bricks at the center of where the building once stood, Colonial Williamsburg archaeologists wondered what they were doing there.
They did not have to go far for the answer. It came from Foundation colleagues in a different discipline.
The Foundation’s architectural historians looked at the bricks’ location and at floor plans of other buildings from the period. Then the purpose of those bricks became clear: They raised the floor joists just enough to prevent the wood from touching the low-lying and seasonally wet land on which the church was built.
The collaboration among experts from different departments, in particular archaeologists, architectural historians and curators, makes Colonial Williamsburg’s research unique. The information yielded about the church changed the understanding not only of the church building but also of how it was constructed — and who did the work.
“We have the ability to play off each other,” said Director of Archaeology Jack Gary. “Nobody else has the ability to bring all these kinds of information together. It’s a real advantage.”
The revelations do not always emerge instantly. Sometimes bits of information come together like pieces of a puzzle. The bricks under the floor joists, for example, were a clever solution for erecting a building on a difficult site.
Working Together
The church had been built along what was then a steep-sided ravine. Silt started to fill in the ravine around the 1770s, about the time a hurricane hit Williamsburg. At that point, the ravine barely drained and was essentially a swamp. This terrain explains why the congregants built the church in a corner of the property where the ground was slightly firmer.
It may also explain why Jesse Cole, the white landowner who according to oral tradition gave the land for the church, was willing to do so. His motives may have been partly altruistic, but the land did not have a lot of value.
It was all the more remarkable, therefore, that the congregants were able to create a level foundation and build on it.
“Enslaved or free, they had very limited resources,” said Matt Webster, executive director of the Grainger Department of Architectural Preservation and Research. “They took what they had and succeeded. We can see the struggle to build the church and ultimately the success and establishment thanks to the information the archaeologists have discovered.”
The first church building, which was erected in 1804 or 1805, was small — about 16 feet by 20 feet. Sometime during the early 19th century the congregants expanded the building to about 16 feet by 32 feet. That structure stood until a tornado destroyed it in 1834.
The range of expertise will ultimately help Colonial Williamsburg reconstruct the church as it looked in the early 19th century.
“We can look at the same thing and get different information out of it,” Gary said, “and then it all comes together to create an accurate interpretation.”
Collaborative Discoveries
The combined work of Colonial Williamsburg researchers has been equally revelatory at the Bray School, where hundreds of enslaved and free Black children were educated during the 18th century.
The building that housed the school was assumed to be long gone, but, as Webster noted, it was hiding in plain sight on the William & Mary campus.
The building’s 18th-century construction had largely been hidden by additions over time, but continuing research by architectural historians revealed much about its original state. To the surprise of historians, a structure that had been thought to be in disrepair in 1765 was actually a well-built middle-class home.
“We can’t operate independently,” Webster said. “We weren’t connecting the information until we all sat down and looked at the documents, the building, the archaeology. Then the story became clear.”
Most recently, the collaboration of archaeologists and architectural historians has revealed the existence of a large privy that served the school. When the building’s original site was excavated, archaeologists found two 3-foot-square pits, side by side, against the fence line that was the property’s boundary. They first thought these were postholes, perhaps from building a fence. After studying the layers of soil and artifacts back in the lab, it became clear these were the pits inside the privy.
The debris from the privy, dating from the time when the school operated, may provide additional clues about the lives of the students and their teacher, just as artifacts from the church site can reveal much about the lives of its congregants. A white salt-glazed creamer found in the privy may have been on a table in the school. Animal bones may indicate the kinds of food the students were eating while at school. And soil samples from the privies may reveal the presence or absence of parasites, providing some indication of the health of the children.
At the church site, fragments of 12 ceramic vessels turned out to be, after being studied at the lab, cash boxes — like piggy banks — that may have been used to raise money for the church. Artifacts such as ceramics will be of tremendous use to the curators who will furnish the house and the tradespeople who will reproduce some of those furnishings.
Learning More
The understanding of the Magazine, too, has benefited from collaborative efforts. The iconic building, where the spark was struck that ignited the Revolution in Virginia, housed weapons and ammunition. It was restored in 1934-1935. At the same time, the perimeter wall and guardhouse, which had been pulled down in the 19th century, were reconstructed.
In the recent excavation, archaeologists found clay roofing tiles, unlike the wooden shingles that were used during the 1930s reconstruction. Clay tiles were less flammable, and the colonists who built the Magazine were certainly conscious of the danger of fire in a building that stored ammunition.
Webster noted that the tiles were an unusual shape not commonly found in those made in England. They probably came from the Netherlands or Germany.
The exterior of the Magazine may ultimately look different in a number of ways. Recent excavations indicate that the original wall was not as tall as the reconstructed one. Architectural historians have corroborated that finding with a document that describes the wall measuring between 5 feet and 7 feet tall. The reconstructed wall measures 10 feet tall.
Architectural historians also turned to archaeological excavation drawings from the 1930s to help define the gate size.
“This is another example of using the various disciplines at Colonial Williamsburg to put all of the pieces together and present history accurately,” Webster said.