Author: Karen Sikes Collins, updated March 20, 2025
When Mike, a professional archeologist, and I began restoration of the old log house and outbuildings January 6, 1989, we were aware of how unusual it was to have historic buildings on their original sites. Many historic buildings are moved to a more convenient location (to parks or out of town) or torn down. Here we had the chance to answer architectural questions as well as to learn about the people who lived here because these buildings had not been moved.
Late one evening about two months into our project, our historic architect, Jim Bigger, had been working under the porch roof on the west side of the log house. He studied nails, boards, and other evidence to establish the outline of an early kitchen. We had been surprised to discover that the kitchen put in by owner Harry Newton in 1952 had replaced an earlier kitchen—one with only a fireplace for cooking and no running water. The old kitchen, used by Hulda Wallis from 1902 to 1952, proved to date back into the previous century, so we were being very careful not to disturb the 19th-century features. Jim removed a modern step leading from the dogrun to the old kitchen. In doing this, he revealed a breach in the rock foundation beneath the dogrun where pipes had been laid in the 1952 renovation.
Our sleep that night had been disturbed by the vision of that yawning hole beneath our old and mysterious house. We hurried the next morning to return to the hole with a feeling of excitement. With a light plugged into a 100’ extension cord from the construction pole outside, we laid on our stomachs and peered into the darkness beneath the dogrun floor. The area under the dogrun was separated from the area under both log rooms by 18” high solid rock foundations on which the log walls rested. The space was about 9 feet wide and 16 feet long. We could see animal bones, glass shreds, a metal handle from a bucket, a 45-70 rifle cartridge, bits of paper. Mike picked up something which his hand touched near the edge of the hole.
In the harsh light, we found ourselves staring at the surface of a Republic of Texas army uniform button—one of only a few ever found in an archeological site. This turned out to be one of three such buttons found under our house. We were paralyzed with astonishment and then went into a frenzy to get the camera to document our find.
Texas was an independent republic from 1836 to early 1846. In 1836, the Texas government negotiated the purchase of military uniform buttons from Scovill Manufacturing Company in Waterbury, Connecticut. Even though thousands of these buttons were ordered, and stores in Austin in the 1840s advertised military buttons for sale, they remain today one of the rarest finds a Texas archeologist can make. [Ten years later we also found a Republic of Texas navy uniform button under an oak tree.]
This first rare find was exciting but also sobering. When we purchased the property, our contract also specifically included transfer to us of ownership of artifacts recovered during the neighborhood association’s effort to save the place. They had hired archeologist Alton Briggs to do a quick excavation under the north log room floor. We also would own any artifacts which might subsequently be found. Now we were legally, and ethically, responsible for protection and wise use of the tangible pieces of history. While restoration was in progress and afterwords, we alone would have to deal with the responsibility which came with ownership of an important Texas archeological site.
Before we had purchased the property, we had decided that all artifacts would be deposited in a state-owned facility (Texas Archeological Research Laboratory [TARL] of the University of Texas or Texas State University), and available to serious scholars for study and to the state for exhibit. A small sample of buttons, beads, bottles, and other items would be safely encased in the log house for future visitors to enjoy through a long-term loan agreement with the university. The day after purchase, we had put up a construction fence and boarded up entrance to the structures. Until we were able to live on the site, and protect it, we made no mention of any archeological finds. We knew from past experience that a few people allow their interest in artifacts to lead them into unethical and even illegal and destructive behavior. Looting at archeological sites is a nightmare for landowners, archeologists, and ultimately, the public. Reporters, who had learned about artifacts recovered during the neighborhood association’s efforts to date the farmstead, honored our request not to mention them yet to protect the site.
Decisions about archeology had to be made early. We decided to excavate by controlled units and screen dirt through nested 1/4” and then fine mesh screen. We would not excavate areas which did not have to be disturbed except where architectural questions might be answered. We would not completely excavate some areas but would leave part untouched to benefit at some future time from improvements in technology. These areas would be protected by grass cover or walkways.
Mike, a professional archeologist, could excavate but all I could do was screen the dirt. He soon seriously outpaced me, and we had about seventy piles of unscreened dirt lining the fenced area. Late one autumn afternoon, our 400th guest, R. C. Harmon, toured the project. R. C. was a youthful U. S. Army colonel, computer company retiree, and knowledgeable avocational archeologist. He had long been active in the statewide Texas Archeological Society and the local Travis County Archeological Society (TCAS).
During this visit, Mike commented on the archeological logjam we were experiencing, and R. C. responded that he and certain other TCAS members might like the opportunity to work on this historic site. These avocational archeologists often spent weekends and evenings working at various sites where permission had been granted, and in the process, learned more about the techniques and tools of archeology as well as about the artifacts and the people who left them behind. Many of them paid to work at the summer field school offered by the Texas Archeological Society each summer. As a project for them, our farmstead would have the advantage of being in town and having bathroom facilities.
With R. C.’s organization, beginning in November, crews of two to fourteen archeologists, some avocational and some professional, excavated, screened, and processed artifacts from 8am to 5pm many Saturdays and Sundays. I cooked lunch (stew and cornbread, spaghetti, potato soup) and coffee, tea, lemonade, and cocoa. Several friends and neighbors occasionally made large caldrons of chili or soups.
With rapid progress excavating and screening, we were soon inundated with labeled brown paper sacks, plastic ziplock bags, and clear plastic film vials, all full of dirty and unlabeled artifacts. Storage and proper conservation of these artifacts had to be arranged. At that time TARL charged $450 per unit of storage space for artifacts and documentation. Artifacts from this site, we estimated, would need at least four units. Since we were receiving no financial funding or support, TARL waived the housing fee. If we would clean, label, inventory, and package the artifacts for storage according to TARL’s guidelines, we could donate the entire collection to the University of Texas where it would be properly housed and made available to scholars for study in perpetuity.
The next step, then, was to process the artifacts. Luckily, one of the Travis County Archeological Society volunteers was Carolyn Spock, who worked at TARL. Over the Christmas holidays, Carolyn helped us set up the system for labeling, inventorying, and packaging the artifacts. Another TCAS member, Penny Kendall, wrote instructions and actually processed thousands of the 250,000 artifacts recovered here.
Starting in January, 1990, in the evenings after work, we washed artifacts that could be cleaned with water and laid them to dry on a plastic tablecloth on our dining room table with their identifying bags. On the following days TCAS and Delta Tau Delta members helped us process them. We ate on TV trays in the living room or on the outdoor picnic table for 11 months till all artifacts were processed.
We found hundreds of buttons dropped to the ground over the 14 decades of habitation of the farmstead. Metal buttons were often corroded beyond identification when found. Even brass buttons were heavily patinated. Some metal buttons had been plated with gold or silver, or were meant to be covered in cloth. Some exhibited decoration on the face. Bone buttons varied from about 1/3 inch to 3/4 inch in diameter with two, three, or four holes. One of the main identifying features of bone buttons was the center indentation, supposedly caused during cutting, which frequently broke through the button to look like another hole. Though we found bone buttons with five holes, the center one was not for thread.
We also found a few wooden buttons. Whereas bone buttons were always thin, wooden buttons were usually thick and darker. Rodents frequently damaged wooden buttons by gnawing. Glass, porcelain buttons varied as much as the metal buttons in size and design. We found hundreds of plain white glass buttons averaging about 1/3 to 1/2 inch in diameter, many of them broken. The buttons had two or four holes. A few glass buttons had been decorated. One “calico” button had tiny blue stars which only came to life under the magnifying glass. Other glass buttons had a deep rim painted dark blue. A variety of glass buttons (and also clay button) which caught everyone’s fancy had two holes on the back side which converged into one hole on the front. The thread literally would disappear in the one visible hole. Several glass buttons were heavily-faceted and engraved with intricate designs. Only a few clay buttons were found and these were probably meant to be covered with cloth.
The greatest variety of exquisite decoration occurred on the mother-of-Pearl buttons. The tiniest and largest buttons found were of this shell material. Minute striations or cuts in intricate patterns had been incised into some of the shell buttons, by far the most beautiful here. Pieces of shell found during excavations seemed to indicate that some shell buttons were cut here. We also found a few buttons made of a fibrous molded material of dull gray-green-brown color. Under the microscope, the button appeared fuzzy but otherwise looked like a hard rubber or early plastic (celluloid?) material. Plastic buttons were found also but not in abundance. Some of these may have come from our own or the volunteers’ clothes. The scarcity of plastic buttons may have resulted from tighter fitting floor coverings (linoleum and tile) and garbage pickup by the city during much of the plastic button era.
In the 1800s, and even in the early years of the 20th century, collars and cuffs were not permanently attached to men’s shirts. The narrow collar which lapped slightly in the front had a small hole in each end. Through these holes, collar buttons were worn to hold the collar around the neck (not attached to the shirt). The large, flat end of a collar button (usually about 1/3 inch in diameter) was worn to the inside against the throat and a smaller bulb protruded through the holes to the outside. We found metal, glass, silver-painted or overlayed glass, bone, and celluloid or plastic collar buttons. Cuffs had larger holes on each end in which cuff buttons were worn. The two sides of cuff buttons were often the same size—about 1/2 inch in diameter. We found bone, glass, celluloid, ivory, and plastic cuff buttons. We also found a cuff holder similar to one advertised in the 1897 Sears and Roebuck catalog. A cuff holder allowed a man to hold both ends of a cuff in place around his wrist with one hand, leaving his other hand free to insert the cuff button.
Virtually all excavated dirt (99%) was fine-screened, and from the very first square, we found beads. Hundreds of tiny glass round “seed” beads were scattered in and around the log building. Most of them were white but some were sky blue. Only a dozen or so were red, orange, yellow, or green. The Indians, especially the Comanches, favored blue and white “seed” beads. Round glass beads also adorned women’s hats, purses, clothing, and decorative fabrics. We could not determine ages of the beads.
The most difficult beads to spot on the screens were hexagonal iridescent dark green or blue glass beads. They were as small as “seed” beads but darker. These resembled “bugle” beads but were short, the length about the same as the diameter. Still we recovered hundreds of these beads, thanks to the sharp eyes of the fraternity and archaeological volunteers. Another common bead was a larger (1/8 inch in diameter) gray round glass bead. The hole was usually full of dirt and since the color of the bead was also dirt-colored, only the size and shape helped us spot these beads. There were hundreds of these beads found.
Occasionally, we found large black or white round beads or flat, faceted beads made of black jet. A few very ornate glass beads were found, heavily faceted, like diamonds, and usually dark green, blue, purple, or black. Many white glass tubular “beads” looking like segments of soda straws were found under the oldest floors. The breaks were irregular but they were basically all the same shape—large thin glass “straw” hollow pieces. A few pendants were recovered, the most spectacular being long slim pointed iridescent blue-green faceted/glass with a hole in one end and large cone-shaped deep purple faceted-glass about 3/4 inch long and 1/2 inch wide at the top where the hole was located. Metal pendants, some with gold or brass faces, were oval, heart-shaped, or round and quite small.
The little girls who lived here must have passed many hours playing with dolls. We found parts of at least eight different china dolls. These dolls had china heads, arms, and legs which at one time had been attached to cloth bodies or which had been wired to China torsos. Most of them were painted and glazed; at least three, however, were unglazed or bisque. The smallest doll would have been about 3 inches tall, for the bonnet-covered head was only 1/2 inch long. The largest, a black-haired beauty, would have measured about 12 inches. A delicate blond head, an arm of a black doll, a leg with a blue garter, a brown-booted foot, even a blue glass eye were recovered on the screens or during excavation. They were typical of 19th-century European (mainly German) china dolls common in this country.
The boys living here lost a lot of marbles around the old farmstead. We found several in rats’ nests—the pack rats seemed fond of carrying marbles into the walls and into their nests. Others were recovered on the screens. Many were clay marbles which ranged from 1/2 inch to 1 1/2 inches in diameter. Some were painted, but most were not. Several agate,marble, or limestone marbles turned up, but glass marbles predominated. Some probably dated to the 1980s but the common opaque 1940s and the not-so-common swirl of the previous century kept screeners on their toes hoping to find the “most unusual” marble yet.
Under the porch we found a dart point and other flint artifacts in a campsite used by indigenous Americans about 3,500 years ago. We found a metal arrowhead deeply embedded in the end of one of the exterior log ends. Comanches especially liked metal arrow points, and if this house was shot by an Indigenous warrior, it was before 1860. But there is another possibility. Following the Civil War, former Confederates, denied firearms by victorious Union officials, became expert archers and perhaps couldn’t pass up the chance to shoot the house of former Union soldiers and sympathizers. Other artifacts included a broken ceramic Catholic saint (the original family was Catholic), a clay pipe, many broken pieces of dishes dating to the 1830s, a sewing bird, the handle of a cook stove oven, and hundreds of square nails.
The artifacts and their location indicated that the earliest inhabitants had a high economic status which declined over the next hundred years.
Besides artifacts, excavation of certain areas helped answer architectural questions. This old log house had no fireplaces nor chimneys which was not normal. But large openings at both ends of the house meant there had been fireplaces originally. Excavation in the area of chimney bases revealed rectangular pits filled with a different color dirt. These holes once held the base stones of chimneys. From these, we could get the exact dimensions of the chimney base to guide restoration of the chimneys.
Only a small portion of the rock building remained. Excavations around the building discovered the buried fragments of sills indicating where walls once surrounded the cellar steps. Excavations to the west of the rock remains revealed a large trash area consistent with kitchen refuse. We concluded that the rock building, root cellar, and well were part of a separate cooking area.
Total excavation in and around the small log building told us that this structure had been a barn until 1952. We found evidence of light blacksmithing in one corner. Whole and broken chicken eggs had been mashed into a mud floor at one time. Many buttons, pieces of leather, and rotted metal sheathing in one corner told the story of a metal trunk with leather straps full of clothes stored here which decayed into the ground.
We searched for a cistern using underground radar but found only several outhouse holes. We also assumed there had been a front porch on the east side of the house. Total excavation of that area, soon to be covered by a new addition to the old log house, revealed an apron of intentionally packed rock but no post holes or other evidence of a porch.
While restoring the farmstead buildings, we tried to get information from two of the three fields-history, archeology, and architecture-to agree. That sometimes happened, but the effort usually gave us helpful direction.
The Travis County Archeological Society occasionally cohosts an Open House here in October during Archeology Awareness Month when the public is invited to view and participate in ongoing archeology.
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