The Curious Case of the Red Building

The two-storey red building in the centre of Christchurch was like many typical pre-1900 buildings that had been modified over the years. The veranda was enclosed to provide more rooms within the building and multiple other extensions and rooms had been added over the years. The building had even been divided into flats which is not a strange sight for such a large old building in the centre of Christchurch. What was curious about this building was the saltbox cottage butted against its east exterior wall.

The west elevation of the two-storey building at the time of demolition. Due to the proximity of the fence and the overgrown trees detailed photography of this elevation was restricted, so this drawing is the best way to show this elevation. Figure: J. Hearfield.

The south elevation of the saltbox cottage joined to the main two-storey house on the left. Image: P. Mitchell.

There was a building built on this property between 1877 and June 1881. Through historical research we were able to pin down the occupation of this land to this time period due to a map in 1877 showing no dwellings recorded on the town section (Strouts, 1877) and June 1881 was when this building named ‘Gidleigh’ is first mentioned in newspapers as a property advertised for let (Press 3/6/1881:1). During this time the property was owned by Church Property Trustees (CPT) who are likely to have developed the property before renting it out to Mr Neville George Barnett. Until 1884 Barnett consistently advertised his services as an organist and professor of music at this address. In February 1884 Barnett accepted a position in Auckland and relocated to the North Island (Star 16/2/1884:2). In 1884 Barnett assigned his lease to a Mr George Frederick Tendall, who had been living next door at ‘Penwynholme’, with his family (LINZ, 1850: 340; Press 12/9/1882:1).

Within the first year of leasing the property Mr George Frederick Tendall and his wife Mrs G. F. Tendall (Eliza), built an extension, to be used as a school room (Lyttelton Times 3/5/1884:7).

Mrs Tendall begs to announce, she is about to have built a large and commodious Schoolroom, which will enable her to take an increased number of pupils. She offers a thorough education, including religious instruction, in the subjects usually taught in private schools…” (Lyttelton Times 3/5/1884:7).

Post-1910s additions to the buildings included an extension on the north elevation of the two-storey building that was completed before 1955 and a lean-to on the east elevation of the 1884 extension. During this time the buildings were converted into seven flats, which included the addition of more kitchens and bathrooms and altered the larger rooms with partition walls to create multiple rooms. At some point after 1955 the front veranda on the west elevation of the two-storey building was converted into two more rooms with the addition of a French door on the new west elevation. These additions changed the number of rooms in the two-storey building from the original eight rooms to 22 rooms and in the saltbox cottage it changed the number of rooms from four rooms to five rooms.

Aerial imagery from 1955 shows the north extension and the front veranda still in place. Image: National Library of New Zealand.

The ground-floor layout of the buildings before it was demolished in 2018. Figure: J. Hearfield.

Research into the history of this site provided no insight into what came first – the two-storey building or the cottage. No mention of the cottage could be found in the historical documents. During the recording of the building they both had similar building techniques and materials. These included:

Wide timber floorboards, measuring to 150 mm, are common in pre-1900 buildings and were found within both buildings. Image: P. Mitchell.

Split laths and plaster in the walls and ceilings of both buildings, which is another characteristic of a mid-19th century dwelling; not usually seen in buildings built after about 1880. Image: P. Mitchell.

Example of the bricks found in both buildings in all three original fireplaces. The bricks had frogs but did not have any makers marks and appeared to be pressed but not machine made. Image: J. Hearfield.

These three building materials found throughout the two buildings indicate they were built before 1900 as spilt lath and plaster, large timber floorboards and pressed bricks are common in buildings built in New Zealand before 1900 (Arden and Bowman 2004; 163,170 & 171). With no evidence in the history it could only be hypothesised at this point that both buildings were originally built within the same time period.

It wasn’t until the buildings were demolished that the truth was revealed. Underneath the floor of both buildings was a shared concrete and limestone ring foundation. This provided us with the evidence that these two buildings would have been built at the same time. But how unusual for a large building to have a small cottage butted against it.

An example of the foundations used for both buildings. Image: J. Hearfield.

After much discussion, it became clear exactly why there were two buildings built at the same time on this section – it was actually one large dwelling. Within the two-storey building there was no fireplace with an opening large enough to be the kitchen fireplace. The only fireplace large enough for cooking was in the cottage. This led us to the conclusion that there could have been an internal door from the hall in the two-storey building into the cottage. This means that the cottage would have been used as a utilitarian annex and functioned as the kitchen, scullery and servant quarters.

Newspaper article talking about the lease of the property and mentions servant bedroom and scullery (Lyttelton Times 9/6/1881:8).

What we have concluded may have been the original layout of the building in 1881. Image: J. Hearfield.

Whilst many pre-1900 buildings show evidence of a divide between public and private spheres, including areas that were designated for servants such as the kitchen and their living quarters, this usually is shown in the difference between decorative features such as skirting boards and architraves. However, this building took it to a whole other level by making the servant quarters look like a completely different building. Perhaps this was to give the servants a feeling of having their own space or else was it the owner wanting separatism between the family and their servants?

Jamie-Lee Hearfield


Arden, S., and Bowman, I., 2004. The New Zealand Period House: A conservation guide. Random House New
Zealand, Auckland.

LINZ, 1850. Canterbury Land District Deeds index – A – Town sections and town reserves register. Archives New
Zealand, Christchurch office.

Lyttelton Times. [online] Available at: [accessed 07/18].

Press. [online] Available at: [accessed 07/18].

Star. [online] Available at: [accessed 07/18].

Strouts, F., 1877. Map of Christchurch,

Black Beers and Ring Seals: the underdogs of the artefact world

This week’s blog was inspired by a Facebook comment on our previous blog post. You might remember that in the last blog we went through some of the artefacts we’ve uncovered over the past six months. One set of artefacts we included were black beer bottles of various shapes. In the blog post I wrote that black beer bottles weren’t particularly interesting or unusual as we find them all the time, but I included them in the blog as I liked the photo of the different shapes lined up together. One of our reader’s commented back saying that she found it interesting learning more about black beer bottles and the range of products they held.

This comment somewhat surprised me as I don’t always find black beer bottles the most interesting of artefacts, and led me to ponder the value we place on ‘rarity’. Does an artefact have more value if it’s unusual? Does an artefact have less value if it’s common? Arguably, for archaeologists, the value of an artefact is in its ability to tell us about the people who used it and discarded it – rarity is the realm of collectors and antique dealers. Yet rarity and commonness does have its use in interpretation – artefacts that are commonly found likely represent objects that were cheap, easily available, or fashionable. Artefacts that are more unusual suggest there were other factors behind their purchase. This means the ‘rarity’ or ‘commonness’ of an artefact is useful for interpreting what an artefact means, what it can say about the people who owned it. Yet when it comes to the physical object itself, there’s just not the same feeling of excitement and intrigue when pulling a broken black beer bottle base out of a bag when compared to pulling out a complete porcelain vase. You could say, that all artefacts are valuable, but some artefacts are more valuable than others. Putting that pondering aside, this week on the blog we’re going to focus on two of the artefacts we find in nearly every archaeological site: black beer and ring seal bottles.

Just last week one of our archaeologists exclaimed, “Black beer bottles! Again! Every site! Black beer bottles! We must have thousands of them!”. And I’d say we probably do. Black beer bottles and ring seal bottles are the most common glass artefacts that we find. For those of you who aren’t familiar with these bottles, this is what they look like:

Or at least this is what they normally look like by the time we get to them. If we’re lucky we find complete bottles but most of the time we’re just left with tops and bases. Image: C. Watson.

Black beer bottles appear black (they’re actually a dark olive colour) and ring seal bottles are green in colour (like the one in the top right corner). Black beer bottles come in pint and quart sizes in two different shapes, normal and squat. We refer to them as small, tall, small squat and large squat, but that’s just our terminology and you might see different names for the shapes. Ring seal bottles look like a champagne bottle (they also get called that, along with ring seal beer and ring seal wine bottles). They typically come in pint and quart sizes, although we’ve found miniature ones before as well. In addition to these we also get stout, Bordeaux, hock or rhine, and cognac bottle shapes.

This image brings to mind the song ‘99 bottles of beer on the wall’ (you can thank me later for getting it stuck in your head). Some of the many black beer and ring seal type bottles we get. From left to right: stout, tall black beer, small black beer, large squat black beer, small squat black beer, small ring seal, large ring seal, cognac, Bordeaux. Image: C. Watson.

While many of these names are also a type of alcoholic beverage (such as cognac), they’re used to describe the shape of the bottle rather than the specific contents. Typically, these styles of bottles were used for all types of alcohol, be that beer, wine or spirits. The bottles were  usually imported into the country with the alcoholic content already inside  – we found hundreds of still sealed bottles that contained Pale Ale at a bonded warehouse site (presumably they went off on the journey over and that’s why they were thrown out). Once in New Zealand the bottles were sold, the contents consumed, and the empty bottles collected by local brewers who refilled the bottles with their own product and re-labelled them. Alternatively, the bottles were just thrown out leaving us to find them quite a few years later. Prior to 1922 all glass bottles were imported into New Zealand, meaning there was a limited supply of bottles and companies often advertised in newspapers for more. Bottle shortages affected all businesses that sold bottled products, not just brewers, which led to companies bottling their product in whatever type of bottle they could get their hands on. In other parts of the country, ring seal and black beer bottles have been found with labels for ginger beer, lemonade, and lemon essence, although in Christchurch we’ve mostly only come across labels for alcoholic drinks.

A typical sight in a nineteenth century newspaper: an advertisement for a company wanting wine and beer bottles.

Some of the labelled ring seal and black beer bottles we’ve found to date in Christchurch: a Bass Ale (that had a message inside), a Crown Brewery, and a Treble London Stout. Image: J. Garland and C. Watson.

When we analyse these bottles, we look at several different attributes. Many of these focus on describing the physical appearance of the bottle – what colour it is, the shape of the different portions including the finish (top), the neck, the shoulder, the body and the base (who knew there were so many parts to a bottle), and which portions are present. Recording these allows us to see what variation exists within a bottle type, and (where possible) to link those variations to specific processes in the manufacture of the bottle.

Typical variation in black beer bottle finishes and bases. Looking at the bottle finishes we have a finish that tapers up on the left, a finish that is flat with a bead or collar below the flat section in the middle, and one that is curved with a skirt below the curved section on the right. The bases are a bit easier to see the differences. The one on the left has a conical profile whilst the one on the right is more domed and has a small pimple off-set from the centre. Image: C. Watson.

We also record how the bottle was manufactured.  In the nineteenth century, manufacture of glass bottles was done by hand, with the glass-blower blowing the bottle into a mould. Different types of moulds were used, with each mould leaving different types of seams on the body of the mould. Black beer bottles were normally formed in single or three-piece dip moulds, whilst ring seals were either dip-moulded or turn-moulded. Occasionally they were made in a two-piece cup bottom mould, but this is less common. The types of moulds used by glass blowers changed over the nineteenth century, giving us an indication of when the bottle was likely made. If you’re interested in bottle manufacture, I definitely recommend checking out the SHA Website as it’s an absolute treasure trove of information.

Some of the many moulds used by nineteenth century glass makers. The glass was blown into the mould to form the body and base of the bottle, with the finish applied by hand (finishing the bottle- get it). Images taken from the SHA Website.

Finally, we record any embossing or labels on the bottle. When these are present, they can tell us either who made the bottle or what it likely contained. This in turn can help us to date when the bottle was likely manufactured. Unfortunately, paper labels don’t normally survive being in the ground for over a hundred years and we don’t find them that often. Embossing is more common, normally found on the base of black beer bottles.

Sometimes these marks are just a letter or a number, other times they’re a manufacturer’s initials. Two marks that turn up time and time again are those for Richard Cooper and Thomas Wood. Cooper and Wood were partners at the Portobello glass works in Scotland between 1859 and 1866. During that time the bases of their bottles were embossed with “COOPER & WOOD”.  In 1866 the pair broke their partnership and divided the company and factory into two separate glass works. Cooper retained the larger portion of the glass works and operated under the name Richard Cooper and Co until 1895, when the firm became a limited company. Thomas Wood built a new glass works next to the old factories, remaining in business until 1920. Richard Cooper and Thomas Wood both continued to emboss the bases of their bottles using their surname and Portobello.

Cooper and Wood black beer bottle bases. The one on the left was made by Thomas Wood whilst the one on the right was made by Richard Cooper. Both were likely manufactured between 1866 and 1885 after the separate glass works were established. Image: C. Watson.

So there you have it, black beer and ring seal bottles. Not the most unusual or unique of artefacts but still interesting in their own right. And in many ways the fact that these bottles are so common is what makes them valuable, as they represent an everyday quintessential item of nineteenth century life.

One of my favourite photos from the nineteenth century. Entitled “Scandinavian picnic with beer bottles”, it looks like a lot more fun than any picnic I’ve ever been on. I can count at least 23 ring seal bottles in the photograph. From the looks of it they’re all quart sized meaning there’s about 20 litres of beer being or waiting to be drunk. Not bad for an afternoon’s effort. Image: Scandinavian picnic with beer bottles, Lowry Bay. Ref: 1/2-052226-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/23033621.  

Clara Watson

Bits and Bobs (again)

It’s been a while since we last did one of these, so here are some of our most interesting finds from the past six months.

I love this plate, but really, how could you not?! A Roman soldier on a rearing horse standing on a plinth, very majestic. The Latin phrase in the maker’s mark Vincit Veritas translates as Truth Conquers or Truth Prevails, very fitting for the image. This phrase was used by C. and J. Shaw in all their marks, although it’s not known if they were the manufacturers of the vessels, or if they were retailers who applied their own mark to the wares they bought and sold. The pair seem to have been operating roughly between 1841 and 1850, making this plate over 150 years old! Image: C. Watson

Black beer bottles are one of the most common artefacts we find on archaeological sites (I know I promised you interesting finds at the start of this post, but they look so nice all lined up in a row). Black beer is a generic term applied bottles of this style. We divide that into four sub-types: tall, small, large squat and small squat to differentiate between the different shapes and sizes. Whilst they might be called black beers that doesn’t mean they contained beer, these were used as general bottles for all types of alcohol and spirits, along with non-alcoholic beverages and sometimes even condiments and essences. Image: C. Watson.

It’s always exciting when we find multiple plates with the same pattern- leads us to wonder if people were cleaning out their china cabinet, and if so, why? These plates are decorated with the Columbia pattern which was a serial pattern produced by a variety of manufacturers, meaning there’s lots of variations to the design (Coysh and Henrywood 1982: 90). Common elements of this pattern are the shrine, the trees, a central river, distant mountains, and figures in the foreground. These plates were made by Davenport, and due to the “2.65” mark we know they were manufactured in February of 1865 (Gibson 2011: 61). Image: C. Watson.

This style of button, known as a trouser button in Britain and a suspender button in America, was used to fasten work shirts and trousers (Lindbergh 1999: 52). The buttons were made from a single sheet of copper alloy and often have an inscription running around the edge- like this one! Image: C. Watson.

I think I may just like images of bottles all lined up in a row, as none of these are overly unusual either. I guess that’s because so many of the artefacts we find are just fragments, meaning when we have complete or near complete objects it’s always exciting, even if we’ve found them complete before. Here we have a selection of various sauce and salad oil bottles, my favourite is the one in the middle. Image: C. Watson.

How idyllic does the farmhouse depicted on this cup and saucer look. It seems very quaint and summery, possibly the perfect destination for a weekend getaway. Unfortunately, we don’t know who made the cup and saucer, or what the pattern is called, so I’m unable to offer any real commentary other than isn’t it lovely. Image: C. Watson.

This artefact is cool, even if I have absolutely no idea what it is. It’s made from leather and is folded into a roughly cuboid shape, although a crease running diagonally along the front face suggests it might once have been ovoid. There’s no stitching at all, although one side is open so there may have been and it’s worn away. But the thing that makes this artefact so interesting is the small wooden sphere which sits perfectly inside the hole- blocking it. Based on that, the running theory is that it was potentially some type of water bag or storage bag, but we’re really not that sure. The fun and games of finding weird objects! Image: C. Watson.

I assumed this pot lid was going to be for toothpaste when it first appeared on my desk. I was wrong. It actually held anchovy paste, which sounds absolutely revolting. When complete the pot lid would have read “REAL GORGONA/ ANCHOVY PASTE/ SO/ HIGHLY APPROVED OF/ FOR TOAST SANDWICHES &c”. I can certainly think of nicer things to put in a sandwich! Whilst there’s no brand name included on the lid it was most likely made by John Burgess who sold imported luxury foods, including anchovies that were caught by fishing boats off Leghorn, from 1760 onwards. Image: C. Watson.

If you’re into makeup then the brand Rimmel is probably familiar. Believe it or not the company was founded all the way back in 1834 by Eugene Rimmel and his son. Eugene Rimmel was a perfumer and we find these Rimmel perfume bottles relatively often, suggesting the brand was popular even back in the nineteenth century. Image: C. Watson.

Once again, I don’t know the maker of this bowl, or the pattern name. I just think it’s pretty. Image: C. Watson.

Clara Watson


Coysh, A., & Henrywood, R. 1982. The Dictionary of Blue and White Printed Pottery 1780-1880. Michigan: Antique Collectors’ Club, 1982.

Gibson, E. 2011. Ceramic Makers’ Marks. Walnut Creek: Left Coast Press.

Lindbergh, J. 1999. Buttoning Down Archaeology. Australasian Historical Archaeology, 17, 50–57.