March 2012 – Page 5 – The History Blog

Irish immigrants killed building railroad reburied

March 11, 2012

Modern(ish)

The remains of five Irish immigrants who died in 1832 during the construction of a stretch of the Philadelphia and Columbia Railroad were reinterred in the West Laurel Hill Cemetery in Bala Cynwyd, Pennsylvania on Friday, March 9th. Seven bagpipers in kilts played during the procession and accompanied an Irish tenor as he sang the national anthems of the United States and Ireland. Members of the 69th Pennsylvania Irish Brigade, a Civil War re-enactment group, fired Civil War muskets in a salute to the departed. Their burial plot is marked by a 10-foot-high Celtic cross made of County Kilkenny limestone and sculpted by Johnny Rowe in Stradball. It was paid for by Immaculata University. The plot was donated by the cemetery.

Around 500 people were present to pay their respects, among them Kevin Conmy, deputy chief of mission at the Irish embassy in Washington, D.C., and the two men responsible for discovering the bodies, Immaculata University history professor William Watson and his twin brother, Francis, a Lutheran minister.

The Watsons’ late grandfather, Joseph Tripican, was employed for many years as the assistant to Martin Clement, president of Pennsylvania Railroad during the 1940s. In 1909, the railroad assigned Clement to investigate a cholera outbreak that had devastated a shanty town of laborers working on Duffy’s Cut, a particularly gruesome section of rail 20 miles west of Philadelphia that required leveling a hill then filling the adjacent valley with the soil removed from the hilltop.

In 2002, the Watsons came across a file of documents about the 1909 investigation that their grandfather had taken home with him after the company went bankrupt in 1970. The file included press articles from 1832 which claimed that there was cholera at the railroad workers’ encampment, but only eight or nine fatalities. Clement’s investigation, on the other hand, put the number of dead at 57. Newspapers were usually very punctilious recording cholera deaths to help contain epidemics. The Watsons smelled coverup and though neither of them are archaeologists and only one of them is a professional historian, they decided to look for the bodies of these nameless, faceless workers who had died unmourned. They applied for grants and were soundly rejected, so they gathered volunteers and permits and paid their own way. Thus began the Duffy’s Cut Project.

Duffy’s Cut was named after Philip Duffy, the Irishman contracted by the railroad in 1831 to make the cut. He had done this sort of project before, and he liked to go back to Ireland to enlist, as an 1829 newspaper story quoted him, “a sturdy looking band of the sons of Erin” to do the backbreaking labor of moving tons of clay, stones, shale, and soil from the top of a hill to the bottom of a valley. We don’t know if he went directly to Ireland to recruit for the Duffy’s Cut contract or if he hired newly arrived Irish workers, but the passenger manifest of the barque John Stamp which departed from Londonderry, Ireland en route to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on June 23, 1832 lists one passenger, 18-year-old John Ruddy of Donegal, who almost certainly was among Duffy’s crew. He and 15 other laborers on that manifest never show up in later census records.

The workers lived in a hastily erected shanty town at Sugartown and King Roads in Chester County. Conditions were miserable and unsanitary, and cholera was winding its way through the Pennsylvania countryside. Just weeks after work began, people started to get sick. Instead of getting the medical care they asked for, the workers were quarantined in the valley. Some of them tried to escape the camp and seek help from neighboring houses, but they were rebuffed. By November, they were all dead.

In August of 2004, the Watsons got permission from local property owners and the state to excavate along Duffy’s Cut. It was a needle in a haystack expedition on which they made little headway in the beginning. The next year railroad historian John Hankey helped them pinpoint the likely spot of the tent city. He was right — burned ground and a number of artifacts like pipes, fire rakes, construction tools and eating implements were found — but it wasn’t until March of 2009 after University of Pennsylvania geologist Tim Bechtel searched the embankment with ground-penetrating radar that they found their first human remains, the shin bone of an 18-year-old male.

Over the next year, they unearthed the remains of five more people (some accounts, including my own, say six, but I now think that’s a mistake), four men and one woman. Osteological analysis suggests the woman was a laundress. Her neck vertebrae are worn from years of leaning over. All of the remains show signs of violence. The woman’s skull has puncture wounds on top, one of the other skulls has a bullet hole, and the others have wounds that were inflicted by a heavy sharp instrument like an axe or a pick.

What they suspect happened is that the violence was inflicted on people trying to get away. It could have had an anti-Irish, anti-immigrant flavor, or could have been a panic reaction to the prospect of cholera spreading. It could have been all business. The railroad had private security policing the area, and the men of the East Whiteland Horse Company were basically vigilantes used to beating up horse thieves. Anybody trying to break quarantine would have been tracked down by East Whiteland Horse Company thugs and killed, then the bodies returned to the encampment to teach any would-be escapees a lesson.

The afflicted were being tended by nuns from the Sisters of Charity and one local blacksmith who was in charge of corpse disposal. The blacksmith buried the first bodies in individual coffins but gave up on that once cholera started to claim more than he could keep up with. That’s why the Watsons found a small number of remains in one location, while the cholera victims were buried in a mass grave 30 feet below a memorial monument to the unnamed rail workers who built our country erected on the spot in 1870. Once the bodies were buried, the blacksmith burned the encampment to the ground.

Only one of the sets of remains provided a clue to the identity of the deceased. Forensic dentist Dr. Matt Patterson found a rare genetic anomaly in the teeth of the 18-year-old male who was the first body discovered: the youth never developed an upper right first molar. As it happens, a number of people named Ruddy in Ireland today also never developed their upper right first molars. Some of them even know of a family legend about a young Ruddy moving to the US in the 1830s to work on the railroad who was never heard from again.

One William Ruddy of Donegal flew to Pennsylvania when he read the story in the Irish press. He has no upper right first molar. Two of his aunts have no upper right first molar. He gave a DNA sample to compare against the remains. The analysis has not been completed yet, but assuming it turns out to be a match — which everyone involved is sure it will — the remains of John Ruddy will be returned to Ireland for burial in the family plot.

Unfortunately the project ends here. The brothers would like to excavate the probable location of the mass grave, but Amtrak owns the property and they will not give the Watson brothers permission to excavate because the location is too close to the active train tracks.

For footage of the burial and some lovely piping, see this local news story:

Keep your eyes open for an upcoming documentary on the Duffy’s Cut tragedy, Death on the Railroad, coming in June 2012.

Year 1 prototype shekel sells for $1.1 million

March 10, 2012

Ancient, Treasures

A silver shekel minted in the immediate wake of the Jewish revolt against Rome in the summer of 66 A.D. sold at auction Thursday, March 8th, for a record-breaking $1,105,375, including buyer’s premium. As far as we know, it’s the most expensive ancient Judean coin ever sold.

The reason it’s so valuable is that it’s a prototype. It was minted just a few weeks after the revolt broke out. In Jerusalem, the rebels defeated the Roman garrison and expelled their pro-Roman king Agrippa II (son of that Herod Agrippa who was raised at Tiberius’ imperial court along with the emperor’s son Drusus and the future emperor Claudius), claiming the Temple and its rich stores of Tyre silver shekels.

When Rome conquered Judea in the first century B.C., they disallowed the minting of local currency. By Talmudic law the Temple tax had to be paid in coins of high purity silver, and the shekels of Tyre were the only ones that qualified. They left a lot to be desired in other religious respects, though. Tyre shekels had the head of Melqart, the god of Tyre, aka Baal, aka Heracles, on the obverse and an eagle on the reverse and were inscribed with the legend “Tyre, the Holy and Inviolable,” thus making mincemeat of the First Commandment prohibition against graven images of animals and deities.

(Since observant Jews would not carry coins bearing graven images and inscriptions calling Phoenician cities holy, and since the Temple would only accept Tyre shekels, a thriving market of money changers grew up in the Temple courtyards. Devout Jews would purchase Tyre shekels with non-blasphemous currency and pay their Temple tax with the purer silver. Those money changers charged exorbitant rates for this service, and according to the gospel of Matthew, it’s their tables an enraged Jesus overturned for making his Temple into a den of thieves.)

As soon as the Jews had control of Jerusalem, they started striking silver coins of their own using the Tyre shekels as raw material. Doubtless they had practical reasons — revolts cost money and so do Temple taxes — but they were also political and religious statements. By minting their own coins they declared themselves independent and sovereign, no longer required to obey Roman laws in contravention of their own religious strictures.

The new shekels were dated from the start of the revolt, so the ones minted in 66 A.D. are inscribed “Year 1.” Moneyers struck a few prototypes first to figure out the design and mechanics of minting large silver coins. Two of those prototypes are known to exist, both struck from the same dies. They were discovered in the late 1970s. One of coins was donated to the Israel Museum in Jerusalem. The other just sold to an anonymous overseas collector for $1.1 million.

On the reverse of the coin is a ritual chalice encircled by dots and topped with the Paleo-Hebrew inscriptions “Shekel of Israel” and “Year 1.” On the obverse is a staff with three budding pomegranates, symbols of the fertility of the promised land, encircled by dots and the inscription “Jerusalem the Holy” (in yo face, Tyre!). Each side has an outer border of dots.

You can tell these are prototypes because the images and inscriptions are more complex and off-center than the rest of the Year 1 issue. The reverse of both prototype coins is off-center to the left. There are borders of dots around the inner imagery as well as the outer border of dots. The Paleo-Hebrew alphabet used is more elaborate. Later Year 1 issues are simplified and centered, with only an outer border of dots and with a less intricate lettering.

This shekel is just one of almost 2000 stunning and rare pieces from the Shoshana Collection of ancient Judean coins. The auction last week was only the first part of the sale of this landmark collection which was put together over the course of 40 years by an anonymous West coast collector. The catalogue is a history of ancient Israel in brief and very much worth perusing.

Here’s a video that describes some of the featured pieces, including the Year 1 prototype shekel and this incredible gold aureus of Titus which was minted around 70 A.D. before or during the siege of Jerusalem but still features on the reverse side a Victory hanging a shield inscribed “IMP T CAES” (Imperator Titus Caesar) on a Judean date palm. Along the edges the coin is inscribed IVDAEA DEVICTA or “Judaea is Conquered.” Titus was nothing if not confident. The aureus sold for $956,000.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cFTTjSzjfA&w=430]

Bog head hospitalized for CT scan

March 9, 2012

Ancient, Modern(ish)

In August of 1958, peat cutters working a bog in Worsley Moss, Lancashire discovered the well-preserved head of a man. They reported it to the police, thinking that it was a recent death, possibly by violent crime. The police investigated the find spot, excavating extensively looking for additional body parts, but none were ever found. X-rays and chemical analysis suggested that the head was at least a hundred years old, so the Coroner returned an open verdict at the inquest and the Worsley head was put into storage at the Manchester Medical School pathology laboratory.

In August of 1984, another peat digger found a leg with a foot attached just 12 miles away at Lindow Moss. This time Rick Turner, county archaeologist for Cheshire, was alerted as well as the police and the next day Turner discovered the rest of the tanned body that would become known as Lindow Man. Lindow Man was the first ancient bog body knowingly discovered in Britain — such finds had been reported for hundreds of years in Ireland, Germany, the Netherlands and Denmark — so he became an instant celebrity.

In the wake of the interest generated by Lindow Man, Worsley Man’s head suddenly took on a whole new significance. In 1987, Manchester Museum archaeologists tracked down the head to give it a thorough forensic examination. They found a severe skull fracture, a wound behind the right ear, and the remains of a cord embedded into the flesh of his right cheek. There was also a cut at the second cervical vertebra where his head was cut off with a sharp implement. Worsley Man was between 20 to 30 years old when he died. Radiocarbon dating places his death at around 120 A.D.

Lindow Man had similar “overkill” injuries: he was bludgeoned three times on the head, the remains of an animal sinew cord were found around his neck coupled with ligature marks and two broken vertebrae, and there is a cut above the ligature spot deep enough and perfectly positioned to sever the jugular vein. Archaeologists theorize that these injuries, any one of which could be fatal, were inflicted in a ritualistic manner, as a sacrifice to gods or punishment of social outcasts.

It’s not a universally accepted explanation, however. Some archaeologists think the injuries could have been inflicted during the course of a robbery. Pathologist Robert Connolly, who worked with the police when Lindow Man was first discovered and they were investigating the possibility that he was a contemporary crime victim, called the wounds evidence of “the brutal clubbing of a man wearing a necklace.”

In 2011, a team of archaeologists decided to restudy Worsley Man’s skull using the latest and greatest technology. The radiology department of the newly built Manchester Children’s Hospital ran thorough CT scans on it.

They confirmed that Worsley Man was definitely not a man wearing a necklace. There are deep wounds on his neck almost certainly caused by ligature. They’ve also confirmed that he was decapitated by a cutting instrument at the time of death, so he didn’t lose his head via peat cutter.

The body in York Minster’s undercroft

March 8, 2012

Medieval

Archaeologists working on the undercroft of York Minster, the 13th century Gothic cathedral that is the largest medieval cathedral north of the Alps, have found human remains that in all likelihood predate the current building. The site has had a church on it since at least the 7th century A.D., but fires, Danes and Normans damaged and destroyed the previous structures. The current iteration took 250 years to build starting in 1220. Since this burial was entirely undisturbed, archaeologists think it took place before the Gothic minster was built around it.

The Very Reverend Keith Jones, Dean of York, said: “York Minster’s walls have been witness to centuries of human life and I feel sure that archaeologists are likely to encounter even more human burials during their three-week tenure: we would expect to find, when working at York Minster, evidence of previous life all around the place.

“Having found the remains of our forebears, they will be reverently cared for until such time as they can be reinterred with the walls of York Minster.”

The bones might even date to the 12th century when the Norman cathedral was still standing. The undercroft, the vaulted cellar below ground level, has archaeological remains covering all of York’s history, from the Roman fort to the Norman foundations. There’s an exhibit of artifacts on display in the undercroft normally, including a luscious Norman-era 12th century relief of sinners being tortured by demons in Hell’s cauldron felicitously known as the Doomstone, but the undercroft was closed to the public as of January this year and will remain so until March 2013. Visitors are allowed to view the archaeologists at work, though.

The closure is part of an ambitious £10.5 million renovation program called York Minster Revealed which, among other priorities, will install wheelchair accessible lifts and ramps in front of and inside the church. For the first time in 40 years, archaeologists were allowed to excavate inside the building in order to prepare for the lift installation. The last time archaeologists got to poke around inside was 1972 when severe structural problems threatened the central tower with collapse. That was when they found the Roman and Norman remains in the undercroft.

In addition to the updating of the amenities for visitors to the church, York Minster Revealed also focuses on developing the rare and precious ancient crafts of stonemasonry and stained glass conservation. York Minster’s Great East Window is one of the world’s largest medieval stained glass windows, and both the masonry in which it’s embedded (it’s buckling) and the glass (darkened by dirt and soot) are in dire need of conservation.

York Minster is one of the few remaining churches to have its own in-house stone yard where craftsmen learn to carve stone using the same techniques and materials their 13th century forebears used. Visitors to the cathedral will be able to attend workshops where they will see the stone masons and glaziers at work and have the opportunity to talk to the craftsmen about the restoration.

All of the masonry is in regular need of replacement, so much so that the minster holds an annual stone auction where stonework that has been removed and replaced with a modern copy is sold to the general public and the profits used to fund further restorations. Prices start at about £30 a block which is a steal for moss-covered, carved 800-year-old limestone. The minster keeps archaeologically significant pieces, of course.

Doorjamb found that proves fictional pharaoh existed

March 7, 2012

Ancient

In February of this year, a team of archaeologists from France’s Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) discovered the limestone lintel and door jamb of a 17th Dynasty (ca. 1634 – 1543 B.C.) administrative structure in Luxor’s Karnak temple complex. Hieroglyphics engraved on the doorway marked it as dedicated to the deity Amun-Re. They also contain the cartouche of the pharaoh who ordered the construction: Senakht-en-Re.

Accompanying his name are the three main titles given Egyptian pharaohs — Horus, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Son of Ra — which leave no doubt that the Senakht-en-Re name belongs to a king. The cartouche and titles, carved during his lifetime, prove that he existed and rewrites the chronology of the period.

Little is known about the 17th Dynasty. At the time Egypt was fragmented, with Hyksos kingdoms in the north and center of the country and native Theban pharaohs in Upper Egypt. We don’t even have a definitive list of every king who ruled during the period. Senakht-en-Re’s cartouche is a particularly notable discovery because it’s the first time a contemporary artifact bearing his name has ever been discovered.

He is mentioned in documentary evidence. Scribes writing during the 18th and 19th Dynasties, two centuries after his reign, describe Senakht-en-Re as the ancestor of the New Kingdom pharaohs who kicked out the Hyksos and presided over Egypt’s golden age of prosperity and military success. Egyptologists didn’t put much stock in the accuracy of these statements since they were written long after Senakht-en-Re’s supposed reign and since they served as dynastic propaganda, a way to connect the current rulers with past ones.

The name alone is a major discovery, but the rest of the engraving also provides an interesting glimpse into 17th Dynasty trade. The hieroglyphics say the pharaoh had the door built from limestone blocks quarried at ancient Tora, south of Cairo. Tora was a Hyksos territory at that time, so Senakht-en-Re, a Theban king, was doing business with the Hyksos.

The CNRS team intends to continue excavations in the area. They’ve been digging in the temple of Ptah area, on the north side of the temple of Amun-Re, since 2008. The ultimate aim is restoration for public viewing, but meanwhile they’ve been doing routine study to enhance our understanding of the epigraphic, architectural and archaeological record of the area. They discovered massive mud brick walls — evidence of earlier temples built on the site — and a few ceramic specimens from the late 17th, early 18th Dynasty.

Egyptian Minister of State for Antiquities Mohamed Ibrahim has asked the team to keep excavating the doorway area in the hope that more 17th Dynasty remains will be found to illuminate the history of the period.