A message in a bottle

Look! Kirsa found a message in a bottle under a house. Here’s how we got the message out.

Following advice from our consultant conservator, Jessie spent half an hour carefully easing out the  cork (all the while worrying the cork would snap off!). Photo: K. Bone.


Following advice from our consultant conservator, Jessie spent half an hour carefully easing out the cork (all the while worrying the cork would snap off!). Photo: K. Bone.

 

 Easy does it: slowly pulling out the cork. Photo: K. Bone.


Easy does it: slowly pulling out the cork. Photo: K. Bone.

 Next step: getting the message out. Kirsa is carefully holding the bottle while Jessie uses the tweezers. Photo: K. Bone.


Next step: getting the message out. Kirsa is carefully holding the bottle while Jessie uses the tweezers. Photo: L. Tremlett.

 Tantalisingly close! Photo: K. Bone.


Tantalisingly close! Photo: L. Tremlett.

Special equipment: Jessie & Kirsa couldn't get the message out, so Sasha (our conservator) made some special tweezers. Here's how Sasha described her tweezers: "They're made of coat hanger wire with tips doubled over and beaten flat, covered in shrink tubing for smooth grippy surface.  The photo Jessie sent me of the message half tweezed out of the bottle was the first attempt using shorter, gentler tweezers, producing a cone shape which would have wedged in the neck.  To pull it out safely maintaining the diameter at less than the bottle neck, I needed to grab the paper at the lower inner corner and coil inwards.  It was tricky spreading the grippy tweezers either side of the paper while lowering into the bottle, which was why I gave the shorter tweezers a try first before committing and steeling myself for the job at hand." Photo: S. Stollman.

Special equipment: Jessie & Kirsa couldn’t get the message out, so Sasha (our conservator) made some special tweezers. Here’s how Sasha described her tweezers: “They’re made of coat hanger wire with tips doubled over and beaten flat, covered in shrink tubing for smooth grippy surface. The photo Jessie sent me of the message half tweezed out of the bottle was the first attempt using shorter, gentler tweezers, producing a cone shape which would have wedged in the neck. To pull it out safely maintaining the diameter at less than the bottle neck, I needed to grab the paper at the lower inner corner and coil inwards. It was tricky spreading the grippy tweezers either side of the paper while lowering into the bottle, which was why I gave the shorter tweezers a try first before committing and steeling myself for the job at hand.” Photo: S. Stollman.

 

 Sasha makes a start on extracting the message. Photo: J. Garland.


Sasha makes a start on extracting the message. Photo: J. Garland.

 

 Nearly there! Photo: J. Garland.


Nearly there! Photo: J. Garland.

 Carefully cleaning the message. Photo: K. Bone.


Carefully cleaning the message. Photo: K. Bone.

 What do you think it says? Photo: J. Garland.


What do you think it says? Photo: J. Garland.

Katharine Watson

 

 

 

 

 

The difficulties of dating #3: the bigger picture

The stone synagogue built in Christchurch in 1881. Prior to this a wooden synagogue had been built in the same location in the 1860s. Image: New Zealand Electronic Text Collection.

The stone synagogue built in Christchurch in 1881. Image: New Zealand Electronic Text Collection.

Over the past couple of weeks, we’ve looked at some of the methods we use to date archaeological objects found in Christchurch. This week, we’re going to look at how artefacts, documentary evidence and archaeological context can be used to date a site. To do this, we’re going to use the example of a site on Gloucester Street that came to be associated with the first synagogue  in Christchurch.

In the case of this site, we initially focused our efforts on old maps and deeds, followed by more extensive research in local newspapers of the time. In Charles Edward Fooks’ 1862 map of Christchurch, we found that there was at least one building on the site at this time (originally known as Town Section 398). That same building is also visible in Frederick Strouts’ 1877 map of the area. From the old deeds index, we were then able to find that Town Section 398 (and the adjacent 397) was bought by Ann Elizabeth Leslie, spinster (not an occupation you’d find listed today!), in 1851 and remained in her ownership until 1885, when the section (and building) was sold to someone by the name of Zachariah.

Unfortunately – and this is how documentary research can be as frustrating as artefact dating – we couldn’t find much information about Ann Leslie in the newspapers or any other resources. However, thanks to Papers Past, we were able to find out that Zachariah was a rabbi by the name of Isaac Zachariah, who moved with his family from their Hereford Street home to the Gloucester Street site in 1885, staying there until his death in 1906 (Clements n.d., Press 4/11/1881:3). During this time, he was the rabbi for the nearby synagogue, constructed in 1881 (replacing the initial wooden synagogue built in the 1860s). We know from newspaper accounts and obituaries that Zachariah arrived in New Zealand from his home in Palestine in the 1860s and worked as a rabbi during the gold rush on the West Coast before moving to Christchurch in the 1870s (West Coast Times 4/4/1868: 2). He had three sons with his wife, Eve, who would have been 3, 14 and 18 years old when the family moved to Gloucester Street (Star 13/12/1882: 2).

An obituary for the Reverend Isaac Zachariah, who died in 1906. Image: The Star 27/01/1906.

An obituary for the Reverend Isaac Zachariah, who died in 1906. Image: Star 27/01/1906.

The excavation of the site revealed a number of rubbish pits, well outside the footprint of the 1862 and 1877 buildings. If the pits had been in the same part of the section as the buildings, we could have dated them to before the construction of those structures or after their demolition. Since they weren’t, we turned to the artefacts to help narrow down the dates.

A photograph of the site showing the approximate location of the various rubbish pits and features uncovered during excavation. Image: L. Tremlett.

The approximate location of the various rubbish pits and features uncovered during excavation. Image: L. Tremlett.

The base of a Thomas Raines torpedo shaped soda water bottle found at this site.  This bottle can be dated to between 1859 and 1871 by matching the embossed mark to corresponding changes in the name and location of Raine's soda water business in Christchurch.

The base of a Thomas Raines torpedo-shaped soda water bottle found at this site. This bottle can be dated to between 1859 and 1871 by matching the embossed mark to corresponding changes in the name and location of Raine’s soda water business in Christchurch. Image: K. Bone.

Going by their manufacturing marks, the objects from the four pits were all made during the same period, between the early 1850s and mid 1880s. The earliest possible date of manufacture is from a Copeland/Late Spode chamberpot, with a manufacturing range of 1847-1867, while the latest is from a Bridgwood & Co bowl made after 1885 (Godden 1991: 102). Those artefacts that didn’t have specific maker’s marks, especially the bottles, all had manufacturing evidence that could easily fit within the 1850s-1880s date range (which is quite broad, really).

Photograph of the Copeland/Late Spode bowl found at this site, manufactured between  1847 and 1867. We know this thanks to the manufacturing mark on the back, which was only in use during this period of time. Image: K. Bone.

The Copeland/Late Spode bowl found at this site, manufactured between 1847 and 1867. We know this thanks to the manufacturing mark on the back, which was only in use during this period of time. Image: K. Bone.

Without taking into consideration the issues of time lag or bottle reuse, and knowing that these assemblages hadn’t been disturbed since they were first deposited (this is something we can tell from the state of the ground around and within the deposit), these dates give us a terminus post quem or TPQ of 1885.  TPQ (which means ‘limit after which’) refers to the earliest date at which an archaeological deposit could have been put in the ground. It’s usually taken from the date of the youngest artefact in an assemblage – in this case, the 1885+ Bridgwood bowl – since, if that assemblage was all thrown out at the same time, it can’t have been discarded before the bowl was made. We know that it was probably thrown out at the same time or over a very short period of time because of the lack of stratigraphy, or changes in the soil layers, in the deposit itself.

TPQ goes hand in hand with another acronym, TAQ, or terminus ante quem (limit before which), the latest point in time at which an assemblage could have been chucked out. At the Gloucester Street site, we know that a large brick building was built there, directly above the archaeology we found, in 1928. Obviously, this means that those deposits have to have been there before that building was constructed, making 1928 our TAQ. Consequently, the material has to have been buried between 1885 and 1928.

Part of a 1928 plan of the Gloucester street site, showing that a brick building had been constructed on the section by this year. Image: LandOnline.

Part of a 1928 plan of the Gloucester street site, showing that a brick building had been constructed on the section by this year. Image: LINZ 1928.

If we then take into account the questions of bottle reuse, ceramic uselife and time lag that we’ve discussed in the last two blog posts, there’s a good chance that our actual date of discard is a bit later than 1885. Our dates of use are almost definitely later than the 1847-1867, 1851-1862  and 1862-1882 dates of manufacture of the ceramic artefacts. The problem, though, is figuring out how much later. If we go with the American estimate of a 15-25 year time lag for ceramic artefacts (Adams 2003), we’re looking at a discard date of 1900-1910 for the Bridgwood bowl and a period of use for most of the objects spanning the 1880s and 1890s.

Fragments of a Pinder Bourne & Hope plate found at the site. Even though this plate must have been manufactured between 1847 and 1862, it was probably discarded much later than that. In the case of this site

Fragments of a Pinder Bourne & Hope plate found at the site. Even though this plate must have been manufactured between 1851 and 1862, it was discarded at a much later date and provides a good example of how dates of manufacture may not necessarily match up with dates of use and discard. Image: K. Bone.

A pudding doll, or 'frozen charlotte' found at the site, suggesting the presence of children. Image: K. Bone.

A pudding doll, or ‘frozen charlotte’ found at the site, suggesting the presence of children. Image: K. Bone.

 

These dates fit in pretty clearly with the dates for the Zachariah family’s occupation of the site. Even if the 15-25 year time lag estimate isn’t quite right for a New Zealand site and we’re looking at a shorter period of time between manufacture and discard, these artefacts still can’t have been thrown out before the mid-late 1880s, after Isaac Zachariah and his family moved in. To add to this, we found a bunch of children’s artefacts in the assemblages – including a  ‘pudding doll’ and multiple children’s shoes – that suggest the artefacts belonged to a family, and we know that Zachariah had children from the ages of 3 to 18 when he moved in.

It seems clear, then, that the artefacts we found at 72 Gloucester Street are related to Isaac Zachariah and his family. Using their archaeological context and historical records, we’re able to take these objects and put a face and a name to the people who used them through the likely dates of their manufacture, use and discard. By themselves, those dates don’t necessarily tell us much about Isaac Zachariah and his family, but they do let us build a bridge between the historical record of their lives and the material remains of their time in this location. Without that bridge, this assemblage would be just another discarded collection of objects, rather than a window into the experiences of people in the past.

Jessie Garland

References

Adams, W. H., 2003. Dating Historical Artefacts: The Importance of Understanding Time Lag in the Acquisition, Curation, Use, and Disposal of Artefacts. Historical Archaeology 37(2): 38-64.

Clements, M., n.d. [Online] Available at: http://www.nzjewisharchives.org/history.htm

Donaldson, B., Hume, G. and Costello, S., 1990. Antique Bottle and Containers of Christchurch and District. Christchurch Antique Bottles and Collectibles Club, Christchurch.

Fooks, C. E., 1862. Christchurch, Canterbury, New Zealand, 1862. Cartographic material. Christchurch [N.Z.]: C.E. Fooks. File Reference: CCLMaps 212667.

Godden, G.A., 1991. Encyclopaedia of British Pottery and Porcelain Marks. Barrie and Jenkins Ltd, London.

LINZ, 1928. DP 9042, Canterbury. Landonline.

Star. [Online] Available at: www.paperspast.natlib.govt.nz.

Strouts, F.S., 1877. Christchurch, Canterbury, 1877. Compiled from data supplied to City Council and District Drainage Board by Frederick. Strouts. Cartographic material. Christchurch, NZ: Ward and Reeves. File Reference: ATLMAPS ATL-Acc-3158

The Potteries, n.d.. A History of Stoke-on-Trent. [online] Available at http://www.thepotteries.org.

West Coast Times. [Online] Available at: www.paperspast.natlib.govt.nz.

Wises New Zealand Post Office Directory. 1872-1979. Dunedin: H. Wise & Co.

The difficulties of dating #2: good things take time

Following on from last week’s blog, today’s post takes a look at how we date ceramic artefacts, specifically the plates, cups, bowls and saucers we find so often in Christchurch. Many of the issues I mentioned last week with regard to glass bottle dating also apply to ceramics (and all artefacts, really), but there are some that we encounter more frequently depending on the type of material we’re looking at. With 19th century pottery, one of the more common obstacles is the difficulty of dating artefacts from the style of their decoration, along with the ever-present problem of ‘time lag’ (more on this later).

Ceramics are an interesting challenge when it comes to artefact dating, since it’s quite difficult to use details of manufacture to figure out when they were made. Some vessels have maker’s marks or ‘backmarks’ stamped or printed on the back with the name of the pottery manufacturer (and these are subject to all the same problems as with bottle marks), but often we may not actually find that piece of the plate or teacup. Other times, frustratingly, we find artefacts without any mark at all.

Examples of maker's marks found in Christchurch.

Examples of maker’s marks found in Christchurch. Left to right: P B & H, or Pinder Bourne & Hope, a company operating out of Burslem, Staffordshire, from 1851-1862; P B & Co or Pinder Bourne & Co, the successors to Pinder Bourne & Hope, who were in business from 1862-1882; J & G Meakin, who were manufacturing earthenware from the 1850s until 2000, although this particular mark was in use from 1912 onwards. Images: J. Garland.

In these cases, dating the fragments of pottery that we have is tricky, since many 19th century ceramics don’t have very much visible evidence for dateable changes in manufacturing technology. This is thanks to the actual methods of manufacture as well as the fact that most of the notable developments in ceramic manufacturing occurred in the late 1700s and early 1800s, leaving production techniques largely unchanged for most of the 19th century. Unfortunately for the archaeologist working with material from the 1850s onwards (as in Christchurch), a date range of 80 to a 100 years for a site is pretty much the same as no date at all.

khoi

Most of the developments in ceramic production that occurred prior to the 1820s and 1830s were to do with refining the mixture of the clay and gradually moving from cream coloured wares (left) to whiter pieces (middle). By the middle of the 19th century, almost all earthenware ceramics were white, not cream. Other distinctive types of pottery, such as pearlware (right), which used a tinted glaze to imitate Chinese porcelain, fell out of fashion in the early decades of the 19th century. By the the time of Christchurch’s European settlement in the 1850s, ceramic production was dominated by relatively cheap white bodied, transfer print (e.g. Willow pattern) decorated pottery – the type we still use today. Not so useful for dating! Images: J. Garland.

Floral patterns like this Bouquet plate, found in Christchurch, with decoration in the center of the plate as well as on the rim (or marly, as it's known)

Floral patterns like this Bouquet plate, found in Christchurch, with decoration in the centre of the plate as well as on the rim (or marly, as it’s known) were produced from 1784 until 1869, with a peak in popularity from 1833 to 1849 (Samford 1997).  Although the maker’s mark on this plate tells us that it was made between 1851 and 1862, we’d be hard pressed to get that manufacturing date from the pattern alone. Image: J. Garland.

Alternatively, we can try to use changes in decoration and style to date artefacts to specific decades. Of course (because an archaeologist’s job is never easy!) there are problems with this as well. Although there are documented changes in the popularity of different types of decoration and different styles of pattern over time, many of these fashion trends also occurred in the first half of the 19th century (Samford 1997). For those of us working in Christchurch, that’s not really that helpful. Much of the information about ceramic fashions is also specific to Britain or America and those fashions weren’t necessarily popular at the same times or even at all in New Zealand (although there are some exceptions; Woods 2011). This is especially relevant when we take into account the time it would take for new patterns and styles to not only make it to New Zealand, but become popular here, particularly when we consider the distances they had to travel.

Left to right: a plate decorated with the Asiatic Pheasant pattern, fragment of a plate decorated with the Rhine pattern, and pieces of Cable and Willow pattern bowls.

Left to right: a plate decorated with the Asiatic Pheasants pattern, fragment of a plate decorated with the Rhine pattern, and pieces of Cable and Willow pattern bowls. Artefacts decorated with popular patterns like these, some of which have been used continuously for roughly 200 years (Willow), are almost impossible to date from the pattern alone (unless there are variations on the pattern or imperfections in the transfer itself), particularly in the context of post-1850 sites. Images: J. Garland.

As with glass bottles, almost all the ceramic artefacts found on 19th century archaeological sites in Christchurch (and New Zealand) were made in England and Scotland and imported into New Zealand (mostly from Staffordshire in England). As I mentioned last week, this means that when we’re figuring out a date for these artefacts, we have to take into account the time it would have taken for these objects to reach New Zealand in the first place. This ‘import delay’ (the time involved in the storage and transportation of goods from overseas manufacturers to Victorian Christchurch) is just one of the components of a broader issue in archaeological dating known as ‘time lag’, which I touched on briefly last week with the discussion of bottle reuse and an artefact’s ‘uselife’.

Sketch of Josiah Wedgwood's first pottery factory in

Sketch of the Ivy House works, the first pottery factory opened by Josiah Wedgwood, in 1759, in Burslem, Staffordshire, along with a portrait of the man himself. Josiah Wedgwood (the grandfather of Charles Darwin) is probably the most famous Staffordshire potter and his brand the most well known, but some of you may be familiar with other names from the region, such as William Copeland, Josiah Spode, John Doulton or William Adams. Image: (left) The Potteries, (right) Wikimedia Commons.

Time lag is a phrase used by archaeologists to encompass every stage in an artefact’s life, from its manufacture to its eventual disposal (and entry into the archaeological record).  One archaeological model for time lag includes the amount of time an item might spend sitting on a shelf at a wholesaler and/or retailer and transportation between these places, along with the actual uselife of the object and the potential for the curation (i.e. heirlooms) and recycling (Adams 2003: 41).

As well as coming from overseas, with all of the delays involved in that, many ceramic vessels are intended to be used over and over again for an indefinite period of time. To add to this, many people in the past may have kept ceramic vessels as heirlooms or display pieces for a very long time. I know that my family still owns plates and teacups that originally belonged to my granny – if we were to throw them out now, in 2013, their original date of manufacture would have absolutely nothing to do with the date at which they were discarded, or the period for which they were in use.

A discarded ceramic plate, discovered in situ at a site in Christchurch. Image: K Webb.

A discarded ceramic plate, in situ at a site in Christchurch. Image: K Webb.

It’s not all hopeless though. As with the bottles, manufacturer’s marks are a good place to start and some archaeologists have come up with estimates for the amount of time we should be accounting for when we date the table wares and tea wares we find on 19th century sites. The discussion and method behind those estimates is way, way too detailed to go into here, but, in an American context, the average duration of time between an object’s manufacture and discard has been calculated to be anything from 15-25 years (Adams 2003). Potentially more or less, depending on the characteristics of the site in question and a wealth of different variables. Unfortunately, this is an American estimate, so we have to be careful applying it to New Zealand sites, but it certainly makes apparent the caution that’s necessary when using the date of artefact manufacture to determine the age of an archaeological site or assemblage.

Although I’ve focused on ceramics in the post, the issues I’ve mentioned are ones that apply to all material culture recovered from archaeological sites – shoes, clay pipes, stoneware jars, nails, bolts, matchboxes, etc. It’s never just as simple as looking at an object and knowing where it came from and when it was made. As I mentioned last week (and will mention again, because it’s important), the when and the where are only truly useful and interesting when they’re joined by the how and the why and the who.

Jessie Garland

References

Adams, W. H., 2003. Dating Historical Artefacts: The Importance of Understanding Time Lag in the Acquisition, Curation, Use, and Disposal of Artefacts. Historical Archaeology 37(2): 38-64.

Samford, P., 1997. Response to a Market: Dating English Underglaze Transfer-Printed Wares. Historical Archaeology 31(2): 1-30.

Woods, Naomi. 2011. Pakeha Ceramics as Dating Tools. Archaeology in New Zealand 55(2).

The Potteries, n.d.. A History of Stoke-on-Trent. [online] Available at http://www.thepotteries.org.