Buried treasures

Where many might see a backhoe and scaffolding when they pass a construction site, Lu Ann De Cunzo sees a chunk of history going to rubble.

Yet, while she reflects on the loss each time she witnesses another Delaware farm biting the dust, the professor of anthropology says she nonetheless remains optimistic about preservation efforts.

De Cunzo and several of her anthropology students currently are collaborating on exactly the sort of historical preservation effort that she says she finds most inspiring, with its aim to protect both the past and the future. The project, a partnership with the Delaware Nature Society, is an excavation at Coverdale Farm near Ashland Nature Center in Hockessin, Del.

“The general thinking goes that there are so many farms all over the country that losing a few of them to a highway won’t matter,” De Cunzo explains. “But, our perspective as archaeologists is that there is always something more that can be learned from what you see in the ground.”

She says the Piedmont area of northern Delaware is an area that’s threatened by development, with very little open space remaining.

“We’re really losing our farming heritage, and despite how much we might appreciate all the lovely rural farmlands that haven’t yet been developed, there’s really not much depth in our understanding of what the history of farming was in this area,” De Cunzo says. “It was mostly small, family-based farms, and historically, that made it a unique agricultural region.”

By preserving a family farm such as Coverdale, she says, the tide of overdevelopment can be stemmed, at least to a small degree. To this end, she and her students have embarked on a series of small excavations near Coverdale Farm’s springhouse. The stone structure once was used to refrigerate perishables and protect the farm’s water source. Their hope is to make a positive impact on both regional heritage and the environment.

“Coverdale Farm was donated to the Delaware Nature Society by the Frederick family in the interest of preserving open space, and a major goal in restoring the springhouse is to use it for educational purposes in teaching about water conservation and pollution,” De Cunzo says. “I think that contributions from the University can add a historical and cultural perspective to that.”

Each of the five excavation sites at the springhouse has been dug to answer a particular question, she says. Once all the data have been analyzed, the researchers will place it into a larger historical and environmental context.

“How the knowledge will be applied will vary,” De Cunzo says. She adds that because the springhouse is at the bottom of a hill and the winter was wet, the marked erosion patterns have yielded important historical and environmental information.

She and her students have unearthed such artifacts as ceramic pans used to cool milk for butter-making and old wooden timbers replaced during a 1960s restoration of the springhouse.

In addition, soil erosion patterns and exposed bedrock are providing clues on how to pursue current conservation efforts.

“We’re learning about the history of the area and about the structural condition of the actual springhouse in an effort to help with the restoration plans,” De Cunzo says. “But, we’re also learning something about the landscape immediately around the springhouse—in particular, how water was drained to the creek that runs a little farther away and how the springhouse was part of this larger water system.”

This is particularly valuable data, De Cunzo says, as the Delaware Nature Society broadens its environmental education program.

“Everything has a history, so if we think about water conservation, then we think about why we are conserving it and what’s the history of the way we have used water that now puts us in a situation where we have to conserve it,” she says. “By looking at what life was like on a working family farm, we’re finding clues that can help us better understand the impact it had, and continues to have, on the environment.” 

—Becca Hutchinson