Worker Housing in the Vermont Copper Belt: Improving Life ... towns.pdf · worker housing in...

Worker Housing in the Vermont Copper Belt: ImprovingLife and Industry Through Paternalism and Resistance

Ben Ford

Published online: 1 October 2011# Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2011

Abstract During the mid-nineteenth century, east-central Vermont supported twomajor copper mines and their associated villages. In order to wrest thousands of tonsof copper from the earth these mines, the Elizabeth and Ely mines, hired and housedthousands of miners, laborers, and their families. Both mines pursued the sameresource in the same environment during the same period, but the Ely Minedeveloped a centralized village, while the Elizabeth Mine housed its workers inisolated housing clusters. The causes of these differences in worker housing can betraced to differences in scale, setting, and managerial philosophy, and can beanalyzed within the larger historical context of Improvement and the largerethnographic context of paternalism in mining communities.

Keywords Worker housing . Copper mining . Paternalism . Improvement . NewEngland

Introduction

Capitalism is laced with complicated and often contradictory relationships that canbe extracted through the synthetic study of the archaeological and historical records.One avenue to study these relationships is the arrangement and construction ofworker housing in nineteenth century company towns, which often contain evidenceof industrial and capitalistic ideologies of control, as well as worker resistance.Generally, the formality of the town layout and the outward conformity of thebuildings reflect the degree of control that the owner wished to exert over town life,while internal variations between homes can be interpreted as evidence of resistanceto that control. These patterns in the built environment, however, vary from villageto village because of differences in technology, regional and national economics,ideology, and the specific geography of each industrial site. Thus, many company

Int J Histor Archaeol (2011) 15:725–750DOI 10.1007/s10761-011-0166-6

B. Ford (*)Anthropology Department, Indiana University of Pennsylvania, McElhaney Hall, Room G-1,441 North Walk, Indiana, PA 15705, USAe-mail: [email protected]

towns and associated mines formed contested landscapes where control, self-determination, profit, and advancement vied within a broader physical, political,social, and technological environment. This wide range of goals and variables led tomany different chaînes opératoires (sensu Pfaffenberger 1998), even within arelatively small area and short time, as workers, families, and capitalists all strove tofind a livable fit between their wants and their environment. The influence of manyof these variables and their effect on the resulting sociotechnic system of integratedmine-villages are evident in a comparison of the archaeological, architectural, anddocumentary remains of two mid-nineteenth century copper mine villages in ruralOrange County, Vermont (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1 Vermont indicating the locations of the Elizabeth Mine and Ely Mine sites in Orange County

726 Int J Histor Archaeol (2011) 15:725–750

Orange County was a major supplier of U.S. copper beginning in the 1830s. Thecounty’s sulphide ores were the leading source of copper in the Northeast for muchof the nineteenth century and the nation’s second largest source of copper during the1870s, before competition from Michigan’s native deposits shifted the mining focuswest. The ore body of the Orange County Copper Belt runs north–south through therugged uplands of the county with major outcrops in three locations atapproximately 10-mi (16-km) intervals. The southern outcrop in the town of SouthStrafford was the site of Elizabeth Mine; the Ely Mine was situated on the centeroutcrop in the town of Vershire; and the northern outcrop in the town of Corinth wasthe location of the Pike Hill and Union Mines. South Strafford (Elizabeth Mine) andVershire (Ely Mine) were dominated by single large companies, while Corinthhosted multiple smaller concerns.

The Elizabeth and Ely mines were the most important copper producers in OrangeCounty and housed the largest worker populations. These mines attracted asubstantial number of miners and laborers from numerous ethnic backgrounds,including recently immigrated Welsh, Irish, and German workers, as well asmembers of the surrounding communities who had lived in the region forgenerations. These people lived and worked in an environment that was describedin 1882 as: “sending out dense clouds of sulphurous smoke, with the smell ofmillions of sulphur matches, almost suffocating at times, and which were coveredwith gaunt trees . . . the grotesque horribleness of the scenery in every direction,partially obscured by the clouds of sulphur smoke which gave a satanic flavor to thewhole” (quoted in Abbott 1994, pp. 52–53).

Despite these gloomy surroundings, however, thousands of miners, laborers,women, and children thrived. The inhabitants of the mines hosted fairs, picnics,glass blowing exhibitions, spelling bees, religious meetings (mostly Methodist andCatholic), baseball games, and horse trots, and participated in boxing and “collar andelbow” wrestling bouts (Abbott 1976). The miners and their families were alsoactive participants in the wider world of commerce, evident in the variety ofceramics and personal items excavated from both mine villages. While therelationship between the “satanic” setting and the dynamic lives led by theinhabitants may appear to be a disjuncture, it speaks to the resilience of thecommunities, and to the ongoing negotiations between workers and owners andbetween their current situations and their desired situations. Specifically, the resultsof these negotiations will be explored in terms of the worker housing at the Ely andElizabeth mines, and what the house foundations suggest about the development ofpaternalism at the mines and the worker responses to paternalism at Ely Mine.

In many ways the Elizabeth and Ely mines were remarkably similar: Both minesdrew on a similar labor force, with many miners working for both mines during theircareers. The mines also operated during the same period and were subject to thesame technological, economic, and social developments. Both mines were pursuingthe same resource that was bound up in similar sulphide bedrock. Both operated inthe same climate and remote, rugged region, only 10mi (16 km) from each other.Similarly, both mines were dominated by successful industrialists: Smith Ely at ElyMine and Isaac Tyson (later his son, James) at Elizabeth Mine. Despite thesesimilarities, however, the mine owners took drastically different approaches tohousing their workers during the mid-nineteenth century. The worker housing at

Int J Histor Archaeol (2011) 15:725–750 727727

Elizabeth Mine was arranged in small organic nodes throughout the site, while theEly Mine village was composed of linear streets around a civic center.

Through an analysis of the specific layouts and histories of the two mines, as wellas comparison with modern mining ethnography and the archaeology of Improvementin Britain, the variations in worker housing can be traced to inter-related issues ofindustrialization, improvement, paternalism, and conflict that extend beyond the bordersof Orange County. None of these relationships are dichotomous; rather the OrangeCounty mines clearly demonstrate the contradictions and conflicts that occur betweenthe domestic sphere and the larger world in capitalist systems (McGuire 2006) and theunease that is inherent in many paternalistic systems.

Historical Development of the Ely and Elizabeth Mines

Formal mining began at the Elizabeth Mine in 1809 with the production of copperas(hydrated iron sulphate), an important multipurpose pre-twentieth century chemicalused as a disinfectant, dye mordant, and astringent (Abbott 1986; Allen 2002;Johnsson 2002). The mine continued to produce copperas until 1882, dominatingdomestic production of the chemical for much of the nineteenth century. The ruins ofthe copperas factories at the Elizabeth Mine are two of the few known examples ofsuch structures worldwide.

In circa 1830, the mine also began producing copper ore. Copper production wascarried out in eight discontinuous campaigns through 1930, with the mine beingabandoned for sometimes more than a decade between campaigns (Table 1). Theinitial nineteenth-century boom of the Elizabeth Mine ended due to westerncompetition, but the mine was reopened numerous times to exploit spikes in theprice of copper. The size of these campaigns and the number of workers theyrequired fluctuated, but generally increased with time. During these years, the mine

Table 1 Mining campaigns at the Elizabeth Mine

Date Campaign

Copperas

1809–1880s Vermont Mineral Factory Company (merged with Green MountainManufacturing Company to form Vermont Copperas Company in1839)

Copper

1830–1839 Vermont Mineral Factory Company

1854–1867, 1884 Vermont Copperas Company

1880–1902 Elizabeth Mining Company

1904 Judson & Rowand

1905–1909 Vermont Copper Corporation

1916–1919 Vermont Copper Corporation

1925 American Metals Company

1928–1930 National Copper Company

1941–1958 Vermont Copper Company, Inc. and Appalachian Sulfides, Inc.


was the scene of several important firsts in American copper metallurgy, includingsuccessful mineside smelting, large-scale smelting of sulphide ores, smelting withhot blast and anthracite coal, and the successful use of chromite refractories (Abbott1964, pp. 22–25, 35, 271–272, 276–278; Anonymous 1834, 1874; Ford et al. 2002;Johnsson 2002; Kierstead et al. 2003).

The mine was revived for a final campaign from 1941 to 1958, during which timeit saw its greatest production, eventually producing more than 100 million pounds ofcopper, becoming one of the 20 most productive copper mines in the U.S. and thelargest and most productive copper mine in New England (Abbott 1964, Appendix).Of the Orange County copper mines, Elizabeth Mine operated over the longestperiod of time, produced the highest tonnage of copper, and left the largest and mostcomplex mining landscape, which includes waste rock piles, mine openings, and theremains of numerous mills, smelters, paint factories, transportation routes, andutilities (Ford et al. 2002).

Ely Mine operators began industrial mining in circa 1834, 4 years after the initialcopper mining at Elizabeth Mine. Following a brief campaign, the mine wasabandoned until 1853 when it was reopened and run continuously until 1883,reaching its peak in the late 1870s (Table 2). For much of this period, Smith Ely, theindustrialist who gave his name to the site, owned the mine, and it became a seat ofpolitical power for him and his family. The sophistication of his operation increasedwith time and by 1867 work at the mine included ore extraction, milling, andsmelting operations to produce pig copper. In part due to these improvements, ElyMine was ranked as between the third and ninth largest copper producer in theUnited States during the 1870s, and the mine produced between 30 and 40 millionpounds of copper during its operation. From 1870 to 1905 the Ely Mine was the onlycopper mine in New England, and one of a small number east of the RockyMountains, where all technological aspects of refined pig copper production, frommining of raw ore to smelting of refined copper, were successfully integrated on alarge scale. The mine was also the largest nineteenth-century copper producer east ofthe Mississippi River.

After Smith Ely’s tenure, the Ely Mine was operated intermittently from 1883until 1905 by a number of capitalists including George Westinghouse. Finally, in1917 and 1918 waste rock deposited on the surface during previous miningcampaigns was milled on site, and in 1949 and 1950 additional waste rock wastrucked to Elizabeth Mine for milling (Abbott 1964; Cazin 1882a, b, 1889; Ely-Copperfield Associates 1918; Jacobs 1918; Johnsson 2002, p. 144; Rittler 1859a, b).The industrial component of the Ely Mine is visible today as foundations, mine

Date Campaign

1834–1853 Various itinerant miners

1853–1883 Vermont Copper Mining Company

1888–1893 Copperfield Mining and Smelting Company

1896 Copperfield Mining and Smelting Company

1898–1905 George Westinghouse

Table 2 Mining campaigns atthe Ely Mine


openings, transportation routes, and vestiges of a water system (Kierstead et al.2003).

As nineteenth century industrial production increased at the mines so did theworkforces. Ely Mine had 90 miners in 1860 (Fig. 2). In 1874, 7 years after thesmelters were installed, the number of employees had risen to between 250 and 300(Abbott 1976, p. 25; Youngwood 1993). Two years later the mine had 400employees directly involved in producing copper and the town had a population of1,200 individuals, nearly all dependent on the mine. This number likely includedteamsters, carpenters, and others employed on a task-basis, as well as thoseemployed in the service industries of the town, and many families (Anonymous1876). By 1880, the number of Ely Mine employees had risen to 851 (Abbott 1976).While the rest of the region declined in population during the late nineteenth century,the town of Vershire expanded because of growth in the mining population.Elizabeth Mine, conversely, had as many as 210 employees in 1833, though many ofthese appear to have been seasonal (Morrill 1833). In 1836, this number had droppedto approximately 30 men and between 1850 and 1860 there were approximately 15men engaged in copperas production and 45 men mining copper for a total of 60employees (Stevens 1836; United States Census Bureau 1850, 1860). In 1880, theElizabeth Mine employed 30 men in copperas production and an unknown numberin mining and smelting copper, and in 1900 the mine employed 84 men (Smith1998; U. S. Census Bureau 1880). None of the counts for the Elizabeth Mine include

Fig. 2 Employee population trends at Ely and Elizabeth Mines. Based on reported numbers and may notreflect total working population


all of the mine support staff such as carpenters and teamsters, and some of the countsmay exclude such classes of mine employees as general laborers and mechanics, soit is likely that the working population of the mine was higher than Fig. 2 suggestsbut still lower than the population of Ely Mine village during much of the nineteenthcentury.

With the exception of the 1876 population of Ely Mine village, families generallywent uncounted, but the ratio between the number of workers (400) and the villagepopulation (1,200) at that time does give some indication of the size of thesesettlements (Anonymous 1876). Mine villages tended to develop with theirpopulations, and their demographics shifted as the mine matured. The villages wereinitially primarily or entirely male, but as the villages and associated mines grew andbecame more permanent the genders began to balance. Mine owners preferredmarried men with their spouses because they led to a calmer, more permanentworkforce (Ballard and Banks 2003, p. 297; Lankton 1991, p. 22). There isarchitectural evidence at both Ely Mine and Elizabeth Mine for the presence offamilies, but the ratio of single to married workers is unknown. Similarly, whileartifacts, such as toys, were recovered that suggest the presence of women andchildren, it is unclear what percentage of the community was composed of theseindividuals.

Housing Stock

The populations of both mines constituted peripheral work settlements, or “coloniesestablished on islands of ore” in territories removed from population centers. Theonly housing consequently available to the workers was supplied or financed by thecompanies (Crawford 1995, p. 6; Van Bueren 2002, p. 2). Harsh winters, lack ofreliable transportation, and remote locations forced these employers to build housingon their property because no one else would. Like other colonies, these settlementswere separated from, but linked to, the heartland society. The variety of ceramicsrecovered from test units at both sites attest to the transportation, communication,and economic networks that connected the owners, workers, and their families toestablished centers. Both mines, additionally, had an established village locatedwithin a few miles that acted as a direct link to the outside world and provided goodsand services not available in the company town. These established villages, however,were too distant to be a viable source of worker housing.

The most comparable periods of population growth and housing developmentwere circa 1853 to 1883 at Ely Mine and circa 1809 to 1882 at Elizabeth Mine. TheEly Mine period traces the growth of the mine village from a few scattered buildingsto a boomtown. The period concludes in 1883 when lack of payment caused a laborriot that effectively ended the growth of the mine (Abbott 1972). All subsequentmining and smelting campaigns at the Ely Mine utilized the existing housing stockwith little if any new construction. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Mine had a longer periodof development and did not reach maximum employment until the World War II era,but only the pre-1882 housing sites can be compared to the Ely Mine housing.During the World War II era, most of the housing was in large dormitories, ratherthan the smaller buildings that typified the earlier period, and the wide-spread


availability of the automobile created a larger class of commuter labor. Housingassociated with this later period can be distinguished from the circa 1809–82structures because the trace of the ore body at Elizabeth Mine directed the center ofmining activity to the north and east as time progressed. By the 1880s, most of themining and milling had moved away from the original core of the site. It is likelythat shortly after the end of copperas production in 1882 most of the original housingat the site, and the housing that was contemporary with the Ely Mine housing, wasabandoned in favor of housing located farther to the northeast. The abandonment,and in some cases dismantlement, of the original mine housing during the latenineteenth century is supported by temporally diagnostic glass and ceramics and thecondition of nails excavated in and around these foundations (Ford et al. 2002).

At Elizabeth Mine, pre-1882 worker housing included 24 buildings divided intofive distinct clusters distributed across the site (Fig. 3). The designation of thesestructures as domestic buildings was based on cartographic evidence, their remains,and associated artifacts. In two cases it is possible that a stable or large storagebuilding was grouped with the domestic buildings (these buildings are parts of theclusters designated as B and C on Fig. 3). One of the clusters (A) consisting of fivestructures was located near the West Branch of the Ompompanoosuc River, in thevicinity of the smelters. Three other clusters were situated along historic roadwaysnear early mine openings and the copperas factories. One of these clusters includednine structures (B), while the other two consisted of four structures (C and D). Thefinal cluster included two foundations (E) in the vicinity of one of the copperasfactories. The visible structural remains of these clusters suggest that they includedsingle-family houses, duplexes, and boarding houses. Most of the clusters weregenerally internally homogeneous with foundations of similar size and construction.However, each cluster differed noticeably from the other clusters, suggesting thatthey were built at different times, with different specifications from the mine owner,and/or by different laborers. Based on the documentary record and archaeologicaltesting, it was possible to compose a partial chronology for the construction,habitation, and abandonment of the various clusters. This chronology suggests thathousing at the Elizabeth Mine shifted with mine activity, but that all of the clusterswere inhabited during the second half of the nineteenth century (Anonymous 1874;Ford et al. 2002). This dispersed community of building clusters was completed by acompany store, agent’s house, and post office located near the center of the site (near C)and a school situated approximately 1.5mi (2.4 km) to the north (Beers 1877; Ford et al.2002; Walling 1858).

Ely Mine began with a similar spatial arrangement, but ultimately grew into amuch more unified village. In 1859, the housing at the site consisted of a farmhouse,boarding house, and mine captain’s house along the main street, and two miner’shouses in a cluster with two other mine buildings situated closer to the mine openingon the hillside (Rittler 1859a). The village grew slowly prior to the installation of thesmelters; however, after the smelters were erected in 1867 and the demand for laborincreased dramatically, new houses were erected at the site nearly every year untilcirca 1880 (Abbott 1976). There were 15 buildings at the mine in 1868, a decadelater the site contained approximately 100 buildings, of which 70 were dwellings,including boarding houses and single family homes (Abbott 1976, p. 25;Anonymous 1876, 1879). Most of these buildings lined the main east/west street


(designated as A on Fig. 4) through town that ran past the smelter building (B) andeast to the village of West Fairlee. Other houses were situated along two secondary

Fig. 3 Elizabeth Mine Site 2003 conditions (5-m contour interval). Letter designations correspond tohousing clusters discussed in text


north/south oriented roads (C and D) that extended from the main street towards themine openings on the hillside (E), and in a continuation of the main street south ofSchoolhouse Brook. The main street and each of the secondary streets form spatiallydistinct units of the village, but because these units were in close proximity andinterconnected by roads they functioned as a more cohesive system than the clustersat Elizabeth Mine. The cohesiveness of the village is supported by the outward

Fig. 4 Ely Mine Site 2003 conditions (1-m contour interval). Letter designations correspond to locationsdiscussed in text


homogeneity of building construction. Buildings with similar materials, dimensions,and plans appear throughout the village. Differences in the outward appearances ofstructures were primarily based on the setting of the house site and the socialstanding of its intended inhabitant. In addition to the houses and industrial buildings,the village included two churches, a school, a post office, a livery, a meat market, aconfectionary shop, a photo gallery, and a large meeting hall (F) containing a hoteland the company store (Abbott 1976, 1994; Kierstead et al. 2003).

These differences in ultimate size and cohesiveness had a notable historiographicalresult in the relative paucity of information regarding the workers and their housing atthe Elizabeth Mine during the nineteenth century. There are no known photographs ordescriptions of the nineteenth century domestic buildings and the only knownmap of thevillage dates to 1874 (Anonymous 1874). In comparison to the substantial number ofdescriptions and photographs of the industrial components of the mine, the near totalexclusion of the domestic structures is striking. This pattern of a wealth of informationon industrial components and a dearth of information regarding the domesticcomponents is not uncommon at industrial sites (Baxter 2002, p. 18); however, whencompared to the multitude of photographs, traveler’s accounts, and newspaper articlesdetailing the Ely Mine workings and surrounding village, the historical record atElizabeth seems lacking. Furthermore, the management of the Ely Mine took moreinterest in their village; it is mentioned in numerous official descriptions and depictedon all pre-1900 maps of the mine. While the archival record of both mines containslittle regarding the everyday lives of workers, there is substantially more informationabout the Ely Mine village in general. This distinction is likely due to the differencesin scale and managerial styles of the two operations. Ely was simply a larger villagethat drew more attention from the surrounding community. Ely hosted the BostonOpera and the New York Theatre, events that attracted visitors from throughout theregion (Blaisdell 1982, p. 62). The owners of the Ely Mine had more workers, andconsequently invested more in their housing. Because of the size of this investment,the houses figured more prominently in official descriptions of the mine. Additionally,Smith Ely adopted a more paternalistic and controlling management style (discussedfurther below), in which he likely perceived the town and the mine as a unified whole,so that the town received a rational share of his attention. The engagements of operaand theatre tours at the village may also relate to this ideology as one aspects ofpaternalism was the goal of creating an improved class of worker through environmentand enculturation. The Ely Mine also had the benefit of a professional photographer intown and a mine agent who was an amateur shutterbug, both of whom contributed avaluable photographic record.

Despite the differences in available data, the archaeologically visible builtenvironment clearly indicates that the two mines employed drastically differentsystems of housing workers. The difficulty, as Knapp and Pigott (1997, p. 302)have pointed out, is to advance from the mining settlement, visible through thearchaeological record, to a discussion of the more abstract mining community. Thisalways-challenging task is further confounded by the disparity of informationbetween the two mines so that it is difficult to be certain why they developed sodifferently. Yet, the chronological, functional, and environmental similaritiesbetween the settlements suggest that economics and practicality alone cannoteasily explain their differences; when faced with very similar situations Smith Ely


and the Tysons chose strikingly different chaînes opératoires to achieve their ends.One possible explanation for this variance is the differential pressure ofpaternalistic philosophy; however, the application of paternalism was likelyinfluenced by factors of scale and worker resistance as well as the ideologies ofthe mine owners.

Worker Housing Systems and Scales of Production at Ely and Elizabeth Mines

The early development at Ely Mine (prior to ca. 1860) closely resembled ElizabethMine prior to 1900, with small clusters of housing distributed across the site. At bothmines these clusters were situated in the vicinity of work sites: at Ely Mine houseswere situated near the mine openings and ore washhouse, while at Elizabeth thehousing was clustered near the mine opening, copperas factories, and smelters. Asimilar organic approach to village development was common at textile mills insouthern New England beginning in the late eighteenth century. Unorganizedvillages typified this system, called the Slater or Rhode Island System, in whichhouses, tenements, and boarding houses clustered in small groups around theindustrial buildings, which were built in environmentally beneficial locations(Crawford 1995, p. 18). The houses were built under the direction of the millowner and tended to be homogenous in order to save money, but each cluster was oftendifferent because it was built at a different time and the owner was not concerned withconstructing a unified village (Crawford 1995, pp. 18–21). The Slater System was alsocommon at many early industrial sites and peripheral work settlements outside of NewEngland. For example, this pattern developed at early Michigan copper mines becausethe owners did not know where they would discover the most lucrative vein and thecompanies permitted workers to build their own homes leading to a variety of sizesand plans (Lankton 1991). Baxter (2002) also recorded a similar pattern at peripheralwork camps in California where workers had a free hand in building their houses andwere limited only by the supplies that the company provided.

In general, the Slater System of village development reflected a pre-modern approachto management, where the company did not dominate the workers’ lives and there was adirect relationship between the industrial and agricultural cycles (Crawford 1995, p. 21;Lankton 1991, p. 164). Because early industrial sites did not provide year-roundemployment, workers fluctuated between the industrial site and the farm, and homeagriculture was integrated into the worker village through garden plots (Crawford 1995,p. 20). Seasonal fluctuations of this nature occurred at Elizabeth Mine, especiallyduring the early years of operation, permitting many workers to return to agriculturaland home industry production during slow periods at the mine (Morrill 1833). TheElizabeth Mine also ran a company farm until at least 1888 (Anonymous 1828, 1831;Child 1888, p. 117). The maintenance of a company farm is often associated with theearly stages of development at an industrial village where the village was not largeenough to attract outside suppliers (Lankton 1991, p. 164). The fact that the ElizabethMine operated such a farm throughout much of the nineteenth century supports thenotion that the village continued in a pre-modern mode of operation.

While the Slater System persisted at smaller mills, the Lowell System rapidlyreplaced it by the mid-nineteenth century at large mills in southern New England.


Initially, this system pertained only to the blocks of boardinghouses erected to housethe workers at large textile mills, but its regimented layout and uniform (withinemployee class) housing eventually spread to other industrial villages throughoutNew England (Crawford 1995, pp. 22–28; Mrozowski et al. 1996). Copper mines inMichigan also adopted a similarly regimented approach to housing during thenineteenth century, with identical houses on identical lots (Lankton 1991, p. 152), asdid coal mines in Pennsylvania. Generally, the more controlling the company themore structured the housing; as discussed below, these structured villages were oftenassociated with a paternalistic management philosophy.

Both Elizabeth Mine and Ely Mine began by developing a modified SlaterSystem village with small clusters of worker housing near work sites, but whileElizabeth continued this pattern throughout the nineteenth century, Ely quicklydeveloped a more unified and structured village. An initial cause for thisdevelopment was the growth in the scale and population at Ely Mine. While theElizabeth Mine remained fairly constant at fewer than 400 workers at any one timeduring the nineteenth century, the Ely Mine continued to expand through 1880. Themore organic village structure worked well at Elizabeth, because the need forhousing was never exceptionally large and the workers were spread across the area atvarious work sites. Conversely, the Ely Mine quickly grew to a size that required itsowners to take control of the town’s development so that it did not overrun theextractive and processing aspects of the facility.

Beginning as early as 1871, the owners of Ely hired outside carpenters to buildcompany housing (Abbott 1976, 1990). In hiring these contractors the companydirected where and how the houses were built and began to structure an organizedtown. The site of Ely Mine is hemmed in by hills on three sides, and while theindustrial process depended on the gravity flow of these hills for ore-handling, therewas limited space for housing, transportation routes, and industrial complexes. If thecompany had permitted workers’ housing to be built in an unorganized fashion it islikely that the domestic and industrial aspects of the mine would have begun tointerfere with each other. By controlling the placement of housing and situating italong linear transportation routes adjacent to, and radiating from, the path of materialflow, the company ensured that both the village and mine could continue to grow. Theinclusion of the village on mine maps supports the idea that these buildings figuredprominently in the owner’s planning. The village ultimately spread for almost 0.5mi(0.8 km) along the main street, so that workers no longer lived in houses that weredirectly associated with their work site. This condition varies directly with ElizabethMine and is indicative of a modern separation of work and home life. The Ely Minevillage was so prosperous that it eventually attracted independent worker housing. Asecondary independent village of 11 houses and tenements called Beanville wasestablished by Alvah Bean east of the Ely Mine village. Beanville served workers whowere not able to or did not desire to live in the company housing.

Worker Housing and Social Control in the Anthropological Record

While Beanville can be interpreted simply as overflow housing for a mine villagewith too few accommodations, similar secondary villages have been interpreted as


sites of resistance that attracted workers who were unwilling to live under the yokeof paternalistic control (Goddard 2002, p. 85; Hardesty 1998, pp. 89–92). Thepresence of Beanville is only one line of evidence to suggest that while the role ofscale was important in forming the Elizabeth and Ely Mine villages, differingmanagerial philosophies were also at work at the mines.

The philosophy of paternalism, which began to be applied to many U.S. companytowns in the mid-nineteenth century, was designed to form a hierarchical linkbetween the worker and the company (Alanen 1979b, p. 263; Lankton 1991, p. 23;Reps 1975, p. 272). Paternalistic managers believed that life and work wereconnected, so paternalistic companies provided more than a wage, they also involvedthemselves in workers’ private lives (Lankton 1991, p. 145). Paternalism seems tohave been most prevalent in isolated communities with resident owners, such as Elyand Elizabeth mines. In these situations the interdependence between labor andcapital was particularly strong, leading to an increased personal bond (Crawford1995, p. 34).

The connections between housing, paternalism, obligation, and coercion variedfrom mine to mine. Many companies provided worker housing out of necessity, andat many, but not all, mines the ownership of this housing fostered varying levels ofpaternalism. Company housing was important to paternalism, because by providingclean, affordable housing to the workers the company hoped to gain theirappreciation and a sense of obligation. This system of provision, however, couldeventually lead from appreciation to a system of control, with housing as thecornerstone of this control because it provided the strongest form of dominion andleverage (Alanen 1979b, pp. 261, 263–264; Mrozowski 2006, p. 97). Companyofficials could dictate what went on in company housing, inspect worker’s houses,and evict workers who caused problems at work or at home (Lankton 1991, p. 147).The allotment of better housing to certain classes of workers could also be used as acarrot to encourage workers and a wedge between ethnicities or classes that wasuseful in limiting labor organization.

Company-owned worker housing within a paternalistic system tended to beorganized in a structured village. Many employers felt that a clean, well-organizedvillage was an intrinsic part of improving the lives of their workers (Tomaso et al.2006) and an outward reflection of the integration of domestic and industrial life.With complete control over the land and building stock, the companies had thepower to dictate the layout of villages and the nature of structures. Paternalisticcompanies also tended to build elaborate public buildings, such as town halls thatincluded libraries, auditoriums, and meeting rooms for company-approved organ-izations. These buildings were visible evidence of the company’s philanthropy andwere dedicated to the “improvement” of the workers (Crawford 1995, p. 36). Thismoral philosophy of improvement also caused many employers to found schools,support churches, and to frown on or ban the consumption of alcohol. Thus,paternalism allowed companies to control their workers while fulfilling what theysaw as a moral obligation to create a better class of worker. However, the underlyingmotive of this town planning, regardless of any improvements to the lives ofworkers, was nearly always increased revenue. Owners believed that paternalisticsystems encouraged efficiency and efficiency led to greater profits (Alanen 1979a,pp. 50, 53, 1979b, p. 256; Anonymous 1856).


Other managerial styles could lead to structured villages with public architecture,and issues of paternalism and social control are difficult to unambiguously identifyin the archaeological record; however, the physical evidence of ordered villages withclass-differentiated houses and central public buildings has been repeatedly linkedwith less tangible evidence of paternalism in both the archaeological andethnographic literature.

Much of the current anthropological research on mining focuses on the islands ofthe South Pacific. The initial interest in this area, spurred by the explosion of mineralprospecting during the late 1970s and early 1980s, was bolstered by the 1988Bougainville Rebellion in Papua New Guinea. This labor revolt attracted high levelsof political and academic attention and greatly influenced the current scholarship onmining (Ballard and Banks 2003, p. 288; Filer and Macintyre 2006, p. 218). Atmany of these mines, as well as other examples from Nigeria (Freund 1981),paternalism was enacted through housing, access to amenities, and differentialtreatment of employees.

Housing, however, was seldom enough by itself. At only the village of Soroako inSulawesi was the mining company able to effectively use the mere provision ofhousing as a means of social control (Robinson 1985). Elsewhere companies wereunsuccessful at housing the majority of the workers. In Papua New Guinea the upperechelon employees lived in the mine town, but the majority of the miners fluctuatedbetween living at the mine and dwelling in the surrounding villages (Imbun2006, p. 328). Similarly, in Nigeria the company provided housing, but it wasuncomfortable, so the workers preferred to walk long distances from their permanenthomes (Freund 1981, p. 96). These examples differ from the historic United Statesdata because the Papua New Guinean and Nigerian mines were primarily drawing onindigenous labor that fluctuated between mining and more traditional subsistencestrategies. Thus, the modern mines drew on a large, if diffuse, existing population,while the historic U.S. mines were situated remote from a sufficient population.

While housing was not a major cog in the paternalistic system atmanymodernmines,access to amenities was. Mines provided schools, hospitals, hotels, stores, recreationshalls, sports fields, churches, and mosques for the benefit of the employees. Forexample, one the primary attractions to workers at the Ok Tedi Mine in Papua NewGuinea was a company airstrip offering connections to Port Moresby (Jorgensen 2006,p. 235; Robinson 1985, pp. 24–25, 35). Ok Tedi also offered social programs, such aseducation and healthcare, as well as vegetable marketing services to provide mininghouseholds with additional income. In other instances, mining companies offeredbenevolent and improvement organizations and co-opted national holidays to servecompany purposes. For example, the Soroako Mine drew connections between thestruggle for Indonesian Independence and the struggle to develop the mine as ameans to bind the miners to the company (Jorgensen 2006, p. 238; Robinson1985, pp. 107, 269–279). Despite their outward appearance of benevolence, theseactions were similar to the historic U.S. mines in that all civic improvements weresubservient to the main economic goal of the mine (Robinson 1985, p. 105).

Additionally, access to these amenities was not evenly distributed throughout theworkforce, allowing modern companies to divide workers and to use amenities as ameans to encourage acquiescence. Higher-ranking employees were provided with largerand better-appointed homes, usually segregated geographically from the common


laborer housing. Similarly, upper echelon employees were provided with access toamenities such as schools or the company store where goods could be purchasedcheaply, while common laborers were denied access. Access to these amenities wasoften promised to laborers as a reward for loyal service (Robinson 1985, pp. 24–26). Atthe Ely Mine a similar pattern was evident in the greater variety of ceramics associatedwith the foundations of managers’ homes than was found in the rest of the site.

Position, and the related access to amenities, also had an ethnic or racialcomponent at many modern installations. While the number of indigenous managershas been increasing, the pattern during the 1980s was of expatriates in the highestand most favored job categories, middle echelon managers and skilled laborersdrawn from throughout the South Pacific, and indigenous laborers filling out thelowest and largest job categories. This ethnic stratification and its associatedhierarchy of housing and amenities were found throughout South Pacific mining(Howard 1991, p. 19; Imbun 2006, p. 324; Knapp and Pigott 1997, p. 301; Robinson1985, pp. 27, 240).

A similar pattern was evident at many historic U.S. mining villages wheremanagers exploited racial and ethnic divisions between laborers by providing betterhousing, and often better jobs, to a particular group, in order to play on ethnicjealousy, divide the workforce, and stave off labor uprisings (Alanen 1979b, p. 265;Meyers 2005, p. 112; Warfel 1993, p. 14). One line of archaeological evidence forthis practice is often the construction and distribution of domestic foundations. Thehouses of higher-ranking employees tended to be larger, more ornately decorated,and situated closer to the center of town than those of lower ranking workers.Additionally, the houses of higher-ranking employees were often set apart byphysical cues, such as being positioned on a promontory or secluded on one side of astream, to further distinguish them from other homes. Lower ranking employeesoften inhabited boarding houses and multi-family homes, while favored employeeswere given single-family structures. The ethnic component of these divisions is mostoften drawn from the historical record (Alanen 1979a, p. 53; Davies 2005, pp. 67–68;Meyers 2005, p. 112; Mrozowski 2006; Tomaso et al. 2006; Warfel 1993, p. 7).

Despite these various modes of control, the mechanisms of paternalism were notalways perceived as negatives by historic or modern workers. Many preferred tofocus on the improved and inexpensive housing, schools, hospitals, and socialprograms offered by the mines rather than the loss of their social and political rights(Alanen 1979b, pp. 270, 273; Filer and Macintyre 2006, p. 223; Jorgensen 2006, pp.244–245; Pfaffenberger 1998, p. 297). Miners at the Ok Tedi Mine and others inPapua New Guinea viewed the mine as “their mine” and often opposed labor unionsas detracting from the mine (Imbun 2006, p. 321; Jorgensen 2006, p. 242). Theworkers were being manipulated for the benefit of the company, but the benefits tothe miners were substantial. The labor unrest of the 1980s, however, indicated thatthe paternalistic systems could not be maintained indefinitely.

Paternalism and Improvement

The recurring theme of perceived and real improvements to the lives of workers, andto the profits of the owners, at paternalistic mines links them to the broader


philosophy of improvement. The germ of “improvement,” the notion of increasingefficiency, profits, and morality, developed in Britain during the sixteenth andseventeenth centuries, but did not blossom until the eighteenth and early nineteenthcenturies (Tarlow 2007, p. 12). By the mid-eighteenth century, the economic andmoral meaning of “improvement” had become intertwined and was conscientiouslyapplied to everything from railways to navies to wage labor, but is often recognizedin relation to the land management approach known as “enclosure” (Newman 2001,p. 108; Tarlow 2007, pp. 12–18). Enclosure was the process of consolidating,reassigning, and enclosing fields with the goal of increasing efficiency, and oftenlimiting access to common lands that had previously supported the poor and landless(Addy 1972). Efficiency was measured in increased gross yields, supposedly forboth large and small landholders (Addy 1972, pp. 25–35; Frazer 1999a, p. 84).

Thus, enclosure was not conceived exclusively to oppress the small farmer, butwas seen as a way to benefit all through more efficient farming, and in many waysparallels paternalistic management, supposedly an improvement for both worker andowner. In both cases, however, the benefits tended to decrease as you descended thesocio-economic ladder (Frazer 1999a, p. 84; Tarlow 2007, p. 47). Traditional rightswere eroded as rules and regulations became more formalized through laws,scientific farming practices associated with enclosure, and scientific managementpractices associated with paternalism. For both paternalism and enclosure, the notionof improvement seems to have come from the top down—the manor owner orcompany owner projected what he saw as a benefit onto the situation as a whole.The projection and acceptance of these benefits, however, were not evenlydistributed in either case. For example, the timing and approach to enclosure, aswell as the resistance of farmers varied throughout Britain (Frazer 1999b; Newman2001, pp. 106, 110; Symonds 1999, pp. 111–112).

The Vermont mines therefore overlap in time and theory with the fluorescence ofimprovement in Britain; there are similar patterns working throughout. Whilepaternalism and enclosure may not be explicitly linked, they do appear to be part ofthe same historical milieu that can be tied to earlier trends, and which became fullyrecognizable by the nineteenth century. Tarlow (2007, p. 11) has identified this asmovement towards modernity. The relationship between the Vermont mines,paternalism, and improvement becomes apparent when Ely Mine is examined indetail and compared with Elizabeth Mine.

Paternalism, Social Control, and Improvement at Ely Mine

Based on the archaeological and comparative ethnographic data, it seems clear thatwhile the need for order at Ely Mine may have sprouted from a practical concern forspace management, it quickly transformed into a paternalistic system. Paternalism, infact, may have been present from the near-inception of the village, as it had many ofthe hallmarks of paternalism: Smith Ely engaged in some forced morality andenforced strict rules calling for the dismissal of anyone found drunk on the job. Thevillage also boasted two temperance organizations: the Smith Ely Lodge of GoodTemplars and the Emmanual Temple of Honor (Abbott 1976, pp. 27–28).Furthermore, there was a substantial town hall that included an auditorium, company


store, and a hotel situated near the center of the village (Fig. 5). Like manypaternalistic towns, this hall served as a focal point of the village where the ownersshowcased their philanthropic gifts to the community. The store inside the hallpassed in and out of the company’s hands, but it was never far from their control,and never engaged in price gouging. The store was not the primary source of profitsfor the mine; in order to keep the workers content the store charged fair prices. Lowprices in the store also helped keep wages low (Kierstead et al. 2003; Lankton 1991,p. 165).

The housing stock of the village also reflected paternalistic tendencies. Perhapsbecause of its organic origins, the village, as depicted in historic photographs andsupported by the archaeological investigations did not have the extreme uniformityassociated with classic examples of paternalism such as Lowell, Massachusetts,Pullman, Illinois, or the copper mines of Michigan (Crawford 1995; Lankton 1991;Mrozowski et al. 1996). Yet, Ely Mine village was well organized with most workerhousing arrayed in relatively straight rows along well-defined streets (Fig. 6). Withinthese rows, similar building styles were repeated, but not all of the homes were equalbecause the owners of Ely Mine village engaged in the common practice ofawarding higher ranking and more valued employees better housing. For instance,the homes of the mine captain, manager, and superintendent were substantial single-family houses situated near the center of the village. This pattern is in opposition toElizabeth Mine where the mine agent’s office was situated on an artificial platformand was likely constructed of brick, distinguishing it from the surrounding homes,but all other housing appears to have been relatively equal and based more on taskthan class or ethnicity. While certain ethnicities gravitated towards certain jobs atElizabeth Mine, for instance Cornishmen were highly sought after miners, thesefactors were secondary to housing workers in proximity to their work locations inthe pre-1882 Elizabeth Mine village clusters.

As noted earlier, the inclusion of the village on Ely Mine maps likely indicates themanagement’s concern with planning to limit the interference between the industrialand domestic components of the site. This inclusion can also be interpreted asreflecting the view that the village was an integral part of the mine, rather thansimply where the miners lived when they were not at work. The later conditionappears to be the case at Elizabeth Mine where there is nearly no documentation of

Fig. 5 Ca. 1890 photograph ofElysium (foreground) andthe Ely Mine village hall(background). (Courtesy ofBailey/Howe Library, SpecialCollections, University ofVermont)


worker housing nor mention of it in official documents. The former, however,suggests a system where both work and housing were controlled by the company. AtEly, the village was part of the mine.

The Elys may have also added their own unique aspect to paternalism in the ElyMine village. Smith Ely’s grandson, Ely Ely-Goddard, served as a general managerof the mine and in 1876 erected a house near the center of the village immediatelyadjacent to the company store (see Fig. 5) (Abbott 1976, pp. 27–28). This 2.5-storybuilding, named Elysium, was constructed in the then-popular Gothic Revival style.However, with its hipped roof, board and batten siding, nearly square plan, andsecond story wrap-around porch, the building bore an uncanny resemblance to awatchtower. The intent behind the exterior appearance of Elysium is unknown, but itmay have served as an intentional or perceived reminder to the residents of thewatchful, fatherly eye of their employer. The notion of “panopticon” as a means ofsocial control was available to the Elys since it was actively promoted by JeremyBentham beginning in the 1790s and it may have directly or indirectly influencedthem (Hilton 2006, p. 329). Bell towers and other structures often served similar dualfunctional and ideological purposes at mines (Alanen 1979a, p. 49), and Symonds(1999, p. 114) has made a similar argument in the context of Scottish tenantssubjected to enclosure.

While there is clearly evidence of paternalism at Ely Mine, the mine was on boththe figurative and literal frontier of industry, and as a frontier establishment it did notmanifest the well-developed forms of social movements that were witnessed in morecentrally located and commercially linked industrial centers. Rather, the paternalismat Ely appears to have been more tempered by local conditions and a balance ofpower between management and labor. This vernacular paternalism was consistentwith the mine’s frontier character and is manifested in the built environment.

The construction and habitation of worker housing not only formed a tangiblebond between worker and company but could also be emblematic of the socialbartering between employers and employees at work settlements. In taking workerhousing the workers lost individuality and freedom of choice and action, but gainedcomfortable, affordable housing near work. In establishing worker housing the minelost capital because they seldom made a profit on worker housing and were forced tocollect rents and make repairs, but gained a controllable, less transitory workforce(Lankton 1991, p. 148).

These competing interpretations of housing are evident in the foundations of theEly Mine village tenements. Of ten identifiable tenement buildings within the village

Fig. 6 Ca. 1895 panoramic photograph of Ely Mine village as viewed from the south. (Courtesy ofBailey/Howe Library, Special Collections, University of Vermont)


that had the same exterior footprint and appear identical in historic photographs,eight had unique foundation layouts. These layouts consist of varying compositionsof cellars and surface foundations to form a main block flanked by two wings(Fig. 7). Archaeological investigations showed that the variations in foundationsreflected as-built conditions and cannot be explained by differential preservation orvariations in bedrock depth.

The mine owners were concerned with establishing a uniform exteriorappearance, but left the builders to their own devices when it came to arrangingthe foundations. Given the numerous different approaches to constructing thefoundations it is clear that the builders had their own conceptions of how the cellarof a building should be laid-out. The mine owners contracted out the construction ofmost of the worker housing to local carpenters, but it is unknown if mine employeeswere used as construction labor (as occurred at other industrial sites) and what, ifany, influence the mine employees had over the interior layout of the foundations(Abbott 1990; Davies 2005, p. 67). The differences in arrangement may have beencaused by different construction crews with only exterior dimensions to guide them,or it may have been a concession from the mine owners to the workers who had tolive in the tenements. These foundations are evidence of Ballard and Banks’s (2003)argument that mining companies are neither as monolithic nor as cohesive as theyare often portrayed. It is very possible that the Elys opted not to involve themselvesin village planning beyond the number, position, and exterior appearance ofstructures. Similar interplay between owners and workers was noted at the BoottMills where boardinghouses went from well-maintained to trash-strewn over time(Mrozowski et al. 1996, p. 48), and at Hacienda Tabi where the workers redefinedthe organized landscape in alternative ways (Meyers and Carlson 2002). The initialintentions of the owners were reflected in the built environment, but the workers hadthe final influence over its use. Thus, multiple meanings can be invested in a singleaspect of a contested landscape. These tenements were both sites of conformity andindividuality, paternalism and resistance.

Fig. 7 Schematics of Ely Mine village tenement foundations depicting variability in foundationconstruction as compared to uniformity of exterior appearance (front and rear photographs)


The final evidence of paternalism on the part of the owners and counter-activityby the workers at Ely Mine occurred as a riot. In many instances paternalismultimately heightens the tension between capital and labor, leading to increaseddisruption and counteracting the original intent of the philosophy. These disruptionsoccur particularly when one of the two anchors of paternalism, a sound economy andprofits, come unmoored (Crawford 1995, p. 12; Godoy 1985, p. 207; Lankton 1991,p. 146). With a decline in profits and an associated inability to pay workers, SmithEly was faced with a labor strike in 1883. Despite being nearly bloodless, the riotwas known as the Ely War. Over the course of a week, the miners seized control ofthe village and the mine’s magazine, ransacked the company store, and threatenedthe mine owners. The Vermont State Militia was called out to quell the riot, one ofthe few times in the state’s history that the Militia was employed to suppress laborunrest. The riot was put down without a single shot being fired and the leaders werereleased 2 days later because no one would testify against them; however, the rioteffectively ended the boom of the Ely Mine and shortly thereafter the Elys’ divestedthemselves of their holdings in the mine (Abbott 1972). The withdrawal of the Elyscan be interpreted in economic terms or as a Pyrrhic labor victory (fewer jobs wereavailable after the riot), but it can also be interpreted as further evidence of SmithEly’s paternalism. He essentially rejected the mine and miners who had rejected hispaternalism. If he perceived his management of the mine as improving the lives ofworkers as well as improving his profits then the riot may have been a bitterrejection of his benevolence. Paternalism was seldom a simple relationship.

Discussion and Conclusion

The Elizabeth and Ely mines span the development of company towns frompremodern work habits to scientific management, and their differing levels ofinvestment in village planning are clearly evident on the landscape (Gutman 1976).Many of the indicators of the transition to industrial capitalism that Mrozowski(2006) noted in his excellent comparison of eighteenth-century Newport andnineteenth-century Lowell are present at the Elizabeth and Ely mines. However,rather than being a temporal shift, the differences are visible at two contemporaneousand neighboring sites. The adoption of paternalism, scientific management,industrial capitalism, and improvement was spotty and driven by far more than theavailability of a particular philosophy.

The exact cause for the development of paternalism at the Ely Mine, like so muchabout the worker’s lives at both sites, is unknown. It is similarly uncertain why theElizabeth Mine did not develop as many paternalistic characteristics. Physicalaspects such as geography, space, and scale likely influenced the development of theElizabeth Mine, but the philosophy of the Tysons and the organization of theworkers may have also had an effect. The relationship between workers andentrepreneurs also evolved over time, further compounding the difficulty ofidentifying causes for different development trajectories.

Similarly, the volition of the workers varied through time and between the mines.There were different needs for resistance depending on the goals and actions of theowners and the perceptions of the workers. The archaeological and historical


evidence of resistance is visible at Ely Mine and absent or invisible at ElizabethMine. A similar scenario was recorded by Symonds (1999, pp. 111–112) who notedthat the Highland Scots reacted very differently than the Irish when faced withsimilar land clearances between 1760 and 1860. Elizabeth and Ely mines, as well asthe example of Scotland and Ireland, reinforce the idea that oppression andresponses to oppression can be nuanced within relatively small temporal andgeographical areas, while still operating within the same historical context. Thesewere discourses held between local groups using a vocabulary that was familiar to alarger population.

As in any discourse, the relationship was recursive. A response by the workersrequired a response by the owners, even if that response was silence. Thus, the variationsin Ely Mine tenements may have been an act of resistance by the workers, and thedecision not to force interior conformity may have been a response by the owner; anattempt to retain the balance of improved profits and improved workers that was thefoundation of paternalism. This relationship between workers and owners also has aprecedent within the context of enclosure and improvement. Frazer’s (1999a, p. 93)study of Castleton, England, provided several instances of what he interprets asconcessions from the gentry to small landholders and the landless that were based oncustomary rights rather than new laws. He notes that these concessions were made notas a result of resistance but out of fear of resistance. These negotiations were notexpressly recorded in documents but can be inferred from the archaeological record aspart of the conflicting and complicated nature of enclosure or paternalism.

Paternalism and enclosure are linked through a desire for efficiency andimprovement, and both are fraught with struggles and contradictions, but were notalways designed for outright oppression. Parallel themes within these movementsallow for a discussion of larger historical trends but differences also point toimportant local variations. Thus, the Ely Mine can be viewed as part of thecontinuum of paternalism from eighteenth century British improvement to modernpaternalism in Papua New Guinean mines, while Ely Mine’s variation from theElizabeth Mine speaks to the patchiness of this management philosophy. Similarly,the comparison between the Elizabeth and Ely mines demonstrates that neitherowners nor workers were homogenous. The differences in paternalism and resistanceat the mines allude to the extreme polyvocality of the worker/capitalist relationship.

Unfortunately, in the absence of written documents recording the lives of thelaborers or the philosophies of the owners, inferences based on the archaeology ofthese two sites is all that we have to describe the lives of the thousands of men andwomen who lived around the mines. Despite these gaps, the evidence from theVermont mines has the potential to inform the larger anthropological literature onmining. Paternalism and dependency are concerns in much of the ethnographicmining literature, but they are often stated as undisputed facts without supportingevidence or are based exclusively on interviews. The leap from dependency to thephysical effects of dependency is not often made. In part, this condition arises fromthe practice of studying modern trans-national businesses that limit the anthropologist’saccess to specific aspects of the company and community. While many of the trends inmine management noted in the anthropological examples appear at Ely Mine,archaeology bears less of the political concerns of modern companies. The miningcompanies of the Vermont Copper Belt are now defunct, and so their company


prerogative is no longer an issue. The archaeologist has the freedom to move about themining village in a way that the anthropologist does not, and by linking theanthropological literature and the physical record it is possible to provide newinformation on social control and worker resistance within mining villages.

The archaeology of mining also has much to gain from ethnographic analogy. Theethnographic examples show that housing was seldom the only aspect of paternalismnecessary to align the workers with the intent of the company. While the remains ofhouses and ceramics are among the clearest archaeological evidence for regulatedliving, preferential treatment, and centralized public buildings, the less tangiblesocial system in which these artifacts existed needs to be remembered. Paternalismwas a philosophy and as such had the potential to permeate every aspect of town life;ethnographic and historical evidence offer the surest means to reconstruct this lifeand stretch the archaeological record in meaningful ways.

The issues that surround mining communities clearly cross-cut time and space(Knapp et al. 1998); however, there is an important difference between the Vermontexamples and the ethnographic cases. The ethnographies tend to focus on areaswhere mining and industrialism were introduced de novo, and where capitalism, ifnot new, was not the basis of traditional trade and commercial arrangements. Theadvent of the mines consequently initiated fundamental shifts in production andculture. The change for immigrants to the Vermont mines, conversely, was not asdrastic. These miners, laborers, and their families were already part of a capitalisticsystem, one that had been influenced by the philosophy of improvement, and hadexperience with industrial nations; many were miners in their home country. In theethnographic examples, the mine company had to either dominate the local cultureor attempt to co-opt it. For example, in Nigeria the company recruited local headmenas contractors to lead unskilled and semi-skilled workers, incorporating the authorityof the headmen into the company structure (Freund 1981, pp. 89–90). For theVermont miners and managers, such machinations were not necessary, mining andcapitalism were already accepted and understood concepts.

Since the documentary record of the Vermont mines has already been severelytaxed, further discussion of the lives of workers, and those even more poorlyrecorded such as women and children, must rely on archaeology and comparisonswith ethnographic and historical correlates. Cross-cultural and cross-historicalcomparisons can only contribute to the ethnology of mining.

Acknowledgments I would like to acknowledge the Environmental Protection Agency and the ArmyCorps of Engineers, New England District for funding this research, and PAL for giving me theopportunity to investigate these two sites. I am indebted to Matthew Kierstead and Suzanne Cherau fortheir comments on an earlier draft of this paper. Suzanne Cherau served as the Principal Investigator andMatt Kierstead was the Industrial Historian for both surveys. Matt provided invaluable informationregarding the industrial development of the Ely and Elizabeth mines and without his assistance this articlecould not have been written. This research also builds on the thorough and scholarly work compiled byCollamer Abbott over the past half century. Charles Orser provided insightful comments on an earlier draftof this paper, which improved and focused the current article. William Burdick, Danielia Donohue,Michael Duffin, Jessi Halligan, Charles Langway, Fred Lumb, Ward McIntyre, and Paul White contributedto the fieldwork. Dana Richardi was responsible for digitizing all maps, and Tim Kardatzke and TimothyIves catalogued and analyzed the cultural material. The conclusions and interpretations of thearchaeological and historic records expressed in this article are my own, and do not necessarily reflectthe views or opinions of my colleagues or the federal agencies who sponsored the surveys.


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