The Dirtiest Word in Archaeology: Fossicking

Disclaimer: This blog post will mainly focus on fossicking on historic sites, as that’s what we have the greatest experience with in Christchurch. We wouldn’t be able to do justice to discussing fossicking on Māori sites, but it has occurred (largely outside urban areas and the standard authority process) since Europeans first came to New Zealand. To make matters worse, fossicking of Māori sites often includes the disturbance of burials, and the collection and treatment of Māori human remains as yet another object. Tangata whenua have made great strides recently in the return of their tupuna, led by Te Papa museum, which you can read more about here.

Second disclaimer: We also need to acknowledge that much of the “archaeology” conducted in New Zealand in the late 18th and early 19th centuries was essentially treasure hunting. New Zealand archaeology evolved from the activities of historians, museum anthropologists, students of Maori lore, and private fossickers and collectors. Back in the early days of “archaeology” – “archaeologists” disturbed archaeological sites to collect artefacts for museum collections, with little regards to context and stratigraphy. These actions have been thoroughly condemned by modern archaeologists and the damage that was done is widely noted.

 

Typically, when we think of archaeological sites being fossicked, images of Egyptian tombs and Mayan temples flash before our eyes. We picture people stealing gold and precious gems (possibly Indiana Jones style) and selling the artefacts to collectors for thousands of dollars. But what if I told you this activity happens all over little old New Zealand?

An Egyptian tomb, a classic fossicking site.

It might look like just an ordinary construction site, but really it’s a crime scene. This is just one of our archaeological sites that have been fossicked in the past year. Image: J. Hearfield.

We hear about archaeological sites being fossicked every so often, usually when weather or erosion has exposed a site on public land, or Heritage New Zealand is reminding the public of the law. In 2015 Northland Age published an article based on the notice Heritage New Zealand put out about what to do when you come across artefacts (don’t take them, cover it up and report it). In 2017 the Otago Daily Times reported that a known archaeological site near Oamaru was fossicked after a storm had exposed artefacts, and that a person or persons had used a garden fork to remove the finds. There are many other articles written over the years about the issue.

Fossicking in the headlines. Clockwise from left: RNZ 2015, Northland Age 2015, ODT 2017, Stuff 2019.

A quick refresher for those that are unsure of what defines an archaeological site in New Zealand: “The Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga Act 2014 defines an archaeological site as a place associated with pre-1900 human activity, where there may be evidence relating to the history of New Zealand.” – Heritage New Zealand This includes sites and features below ground as well as buildings, structures, and shipwrecks.

Fossicking is illegal in New Zealand, with archaeological sites and the artefacts they contain protected under several pieces of legislation. The Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga Act 2014 protects all New Zealand archaeological sites, whether they are previously known or newly discovered. Under this legislation modifying or destroying an archaeological site is an offence, unless an archaeological authority has been granted by Heritage New Zealand. Certain land is protected further: the Conservation Act and Reserves Act protect areas of New Zealand and taking items from places protected under this legislation is illegal. Depending on where you are, fossicking could involve trespassing under the Trespass Act 1980, and, depending on what you find, the artefacts could also be subject to the Protected Objects Act 1975.

Heritage New Zealand Archaeologist for Canterbury/West Coast Gwen Jackson says:

If you do discover an archaeological site, the best thing to do is to leave it in place and contact your local Heritage New Zealand office. If the site or object is at risk of being damaged or taken while exposed, you can cover it up and mark the site to find later. It’s important to remember that this applies regardless of how the find is made: whether you are walking along a beach, digging on your own private property, or working on a construction site any archaeological find is protected.

Fossicking not only destroys archaeological sites, it also denies the public their right to learn about the history of their communities.

While blanket protection for archaeological sites is capped at the year 1900 under the law, we also have a way to protect significant sites that are more recent. Sites can be ‘declared’ by gazettal, giving them the same protection under the law and making it an offence to disturb or fossick the site without an authority.

In the past 12 months, there have been at least four sites under archaeological investigation by Underground Overground Archaeology that have been fossicked overnight. The main target of these activities has been historic rubbish pits. These actions take away part of the puzzle piece, not only for the history of that site, but also the history and archaeology of Christchurch as a whole. The removal of artefacts, without proper recording, means we lose the ability to connect objects to people from the past, in essence meaning their stories are lost.

A perfect example of a historic rubbish put that was fossicked. When we left site the rubbish pit was exposed in the baulk (side) of the excavation. The next morning it was gone. It is likely the fossickers just shovelled out the contents, leaving a very unstable baulk for the construction team to deal with. Image: J. Hearfield.

On this particular site, not only did we find rubbish pits that had been dug over, but we also found the bottles they were after. Alongside the bottles were a pair of waders. As you can see from the picture above this one, the excavated area had filled up with water due to heavy rainfall. The fact there were waders on site means the fossickers had scoped out the site beforehand and come prepared. We’re assuming that because the waders and bottles were left on site, the fossickers got spooked and bailed, leaving a few things behind… Whilst they left behind the artefacts, we had no idea which feature they had come from as the fossickers managed to destroy five features in total. Image: J. Hearfield.

Another site that was hit. The broken ceramic and bottles were thrown around the edges of the pit, as these were not what these fossickers were looking for. You might be able to spy a couple of bottles left behind. This suggests these fossickers were also spooked while digging. Image: A. Trendafilov.

A third site that was hit. The rubbish pits were completely dug out, meaning no information could be recorded about them. Image: J. Hearfield.

So why is fossicking bad?

When people fossick archaeological sites, they are typically looking for items to keep as part of their personal collection. Whilst the artefact is preserved in these personal collections, the contextual information surrounding where the artefact was found is lost. An artefact by itself might hold information about its own history (such as where and how it was made) but will not tell us much about the people who used it in isolation. The ability for archaeologist to recover all artefacts, broken and whole, from a context we can identify and record (such as a rubbish pit or infilling of hollow ground) means we can connect the use of the artefact and the activity which created the context with the history of the site to reveal the story of the people from our past. Whether that story is one of a quick hole dug in the backyard to get rid of the week’s rubbish or the infilling of a large gully in the centre of Christchurch to reclaim more land for local businesses, archaeologists are able to analyse these artefacts, and share those stories with the public (which is what we do with this blog). When people fossick archaeological sites, they are, in essence, stealing New Zealand’s history from the public and preserving it only for themselves. Ultimately, it is destroying our history.

What type of fossicking happens in New Zealand?

All types! Fossicking ranges from

  • picking up artefacts from beaches and reserves that have been exposed by erosion and weather
  • metal detecting
  • digging up historic deposits on public and private land

What are the differences between archaeologists and fossickers?

Besides the training and working under the legislation, the main difference between the two practices is controlled excavation techniques. These techniques allow us to gain as much information as possible about the activity which created the archaeological deposit before it is destroyed or in some cases is left partly in situ for future generations.

Controlled excavation techniques include:

  • The recording of the exact location of the material that is then produced into a site plan
  • Careful excavation of the material
    • Including observing the type of deposit or feature it was found within (for example, a rubbish pit or infilled well)
    • Staying within the boundary of the feature to record shape and extent
  • Excavating to expose a cross section of the feature can be used to understand the layers of artefacts and other materials
    • A great example of this is a historic rubbish pit. When cross sectioned, it becomes clear if the pit was dug and used for a single deposit or if it was used to discard rubbish over a period of time, creating different layers of material. The artefacts can be used to date these different layers so we can work out how long the pit as used for.
  • Photographic record of the material in situ before being removed for further analysis
  • Analysis of the artefacts
    • used to date when the deposit was likely created as well as understand what activities people were using the land for.
      • Includes dating of maker’s marks, stylistic patterns and samples taken for radiocarbon dating
    • Identifying species from bones and shellfish to learn what people were eating in the past
    • The types of artefacts found can tell us so much about the activity and people who deposited the artefacts such as:
      • what activity was happening on site – whether commercial, residential, industrial
      • What kind of goods people liked/were able to purchase
      • Whether children were part of the family and what kind of toys were played with

Once the controlled excavation is completed, the archaeologist writes a report on all of the findings and submits it to Heritage New Zealand. The report serves as a complete picture of the information recorded on site and how it all fits together to add to our understanding of the past. Once the report is accepted by Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, it can be accessed by the public through Heritage New Zealand’s Digital Library, meaning that New Zealand’s history is accessible to all.

Indiana Jones That Belongs In A Museum GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

Jamie-Lee Hearfield, Gwen Jackson, Clara Watson, Tristan Wadsworth.

 

Life Before Plastic: An Introduction

‘Rubbish’ is the most common thing we find on our 19th century archaeological sites. I have ‘rubbish’ in quotation marks because to us what we find isn’t rubbish, it’s the material evidence of what life was like in the early years of colonial New Zealand. The everyday items and the more unusual objects that help to tell us more about the successes and struggles of New Zealand’s first settlers and their families. Yet, to the people these items belonged to, they were rubbish; products that had served a purpose and were no longer needed. As archaeologists, it’s exciting that we’re finding 150-year old rubbish. As humans living at a time where global warming is an imminent threat to our own society, it’s concerning we’re finding 150-year old rubbish.

In the 19th century people would often dig holes in their backyard to dispose of rubbish. These rubbish pits are one of the most common features we find on archaeological sites in Christchurch. Image: T. Anderson

This is the first of a series of blog posts looking at the archaeology of 19th century Christchurch through the modern lenses of climate change and the growing problem of plastic pollution. Normally, when we write on the things we find we use an archaeological lens, asking questions like why were these artefacts disposed of? Who do they belong to? Where did they come from? Were they common or rare? What do they say about the people who disposed of them? Can they tell us more about what life was like in Christchurch in the 19th century?

In this blog series we’re going to take a different approach, asking questions like what did people use when they didn’t have plastic? How does life in the 19th century compare to now? What materials, objects and practices were present then that don’t exist now? Were these precursors to current ways of doing things? Were they better for the environment? Can we look to the past to help us now in the present? We’re still going to be looking at the archaeology of Christchurch, just interpreting it in a slightly different way.

I have multiple reasons for wanting to do this blog series. I’m 24, climate change is going to affect my life and it’s definitely going to impact on the lives of any children I have: it’s in my best interests to start debate on the topic and provide new ways of approaching it. I also want to write on this topic because it is current. One of the things we face all the time as archaeologists is having to justify our work. There are so many people out there who don’t understand what we’re doing/don’t see the value of recording our heritage/think that it’s a waste of time. When we can take what we find and put it into a framework that uses archaeological evidence to tackle modern problems then that adds even more value to the (already valuable) work we do. Finally, I want to write on it because I’ve never lived in a world where plastic doesn’t exist. Plastic has played a role in every single thing I have done in my life, from the plastic car seat I went home from the hospital in, to the plastic drink bottle I’m sipping out of now. I don’t think there’s been a single day of my life where I haven’t used a plastic object, so I think that looking at life before plastic is really interesting because modern society is untenable without it.

Count the plastic in the picture. I can see at least 25 items made of plastic, many of which I use daily to do my job (the Favourites are definitely essential). Image: C. Watson.

The Victorian era is a particularly interesting period to look back at through this modern lens of plastic pollution because it was during this time that so many of the things we now take for granted were invented. The Industrial Revolution began roughly a hundred years before the Victorian era. Technological developments in the textile industry led to more technological developments that could be used in other industries which led to even more technological developments and before you know it we went from writing with ink and quill pens in 1750 to typing on laptops in 2019 (John Green does a far better quick explanation here).

A few of the many things invented just prior to and during the Victorian era are:

  • Tin cans: In 1810 Peter Duran patented the idea, in 1813 the first commercial canning factory was opened and in 1846 mass-manufacture of tin cans began.
  • Cardboard boxes: Single sheet cardboard boxes were in use around 1817, although the exact inventor of them is not known. Corrugated cardboard was invented in 1856 and in 1871 Albert Jones patented an early style of cardboard box. It wasn’t until 1879 that the single sheet cardboard folded boxes that we use today were invented.
  • Paper bags: In 1799 Louis-Nicolas Robert invented a machine that produced rolls of paper. These were used to make rudimentary folded bags, but it wasn’t until 1852 that envelope-style paper bags were invented. These were surpassed in 1871 when Margaret Knight patented her machine that produced flat-bottomed paper bags, similar to what’s available today.
  • Plastic (kind of): The first man-made plastic was invented by Alexander Parkes who displayed it at the 1862 Great International Exhibition in London. Called Parkesine after Parkes, it was derived from cellulose. Another early plastic was celluloid, invented by John Wesley Hyatt in 1868 as a substitute for ivory in billiard balls. Further advances took place at the end of the 19th century, with Bakelite invented in the early 20th

What’s notable when we look back at the Victorian era is that many of the things we now view as being more environmentally friendly alternatives to plastic were only just being invented. We predominantly excavate archaeological sites that date between 1860 and 1900. These sites were occupied throughout these years of invention, meaning we can see what people used prior to new technologies being developed, the adoption of new technologies, and then their success as they became widespread and mass manufactured. You may have picked up that all the new technologies I’ve listed above are forms of packaging. That’s because in the second part of this series we are going to look specifically at packaging, what we find in the archaeological record and how it differs to what is used today.

The second half of the 19th century strikes me as an exciting period to have lived in. It was a time of possibility: new things were being invented regularly and people were wealthier, healthier and better educated. All of this is similar to the period we live in now. Yet for the people of the 19th century there was a cost to this development, particularly for those who worked in large industrial factories and lived alongside them. In the same vein, whilst we might be benefiting from the technological developments of the 19th, 20th and 21st centuries, we’re currently having to deal with the consequences of those developments.

Plastic pollution is just one of these consequences, and it’s something us archaeologists see all the time. Whilst we only investigate features that were created prior to the year 1900, we come across lots of 20th century rubbish pits. Many of these 20th century pits contain plastic objects, and these objects don’t look like they’ve aged a day. When we put plastic into the ground it’s going to be there for hundreds of years- no doubt future archaeologists will study plastic artefacts in the same way we study ceramic and glass now. By looking at life before plastic hopefully we’re able to imagine a future without it.

Spot the plastic. Image: A. Trendafilov.

Clara Watson

 

‘Archaia’ and ‘Logos’, what even is archaeology?

The word archaeology comes from the Greek archaia (“ancient things”) and logos (“theory” or “science”). So, archaeologists study past societies through the material culture. In other words, we write the history analysing what people threw away or left behind. That’s what it is, although the origin of archaeology was quite different!

Back in the day, great discoveries of ancient civilizations enchanted the curiosity of those intrepid explorers who travelled the world looking for antiquities. The ruins of Troy and the image of Henrich Schliemann’s wife wearing the Priam’s Treasure (referred to as “Jewels of Helen”) as well as the Tutankhamun tomb are probably two of the most iconic finds of the last centuries. On 22 November 1922 when Lord Carnavon enquired anxiously “Can you see anything?” and Howard Carter replied “Yes, wonderful things”, expressing the grandeur of the ancient world. Those expeditions became the excuse to plunder historical sites to boost either personal or museum collections, with no further interest other than hunting treasures, contradicting the rightful purpose of archaeology.

Left: Sophia Schliemann wearing some of the gold jewellery from the Priam’s Treasure. Right: Howard Carter and the Tutankhamun tomb. Images: Wikimedia Commons.

The archaeological discoveries at ancient cities also inspired the decoration on contemporary ceramics. Tea, table and serving wares also became a mechanism to emulate the magnificent past. Idyllic depictions of exotic and remote places, scenes with ruins of Greece, Rome and oriental inspired scenes are all relatively common finds on Christchurch archaeological sites.

Left: Medina patterned plate. It is likely that this pattern draws inspiration from Medina, the city in Saudi Arabia to the north of Mecca. Image: J. Garland. Right: drainer decorated with the Corinthian pattern, the name of which refers to one of the three Greek architectural orders: Doric, Ionic and Corinthian, with ruins and columns depicted on the scene. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

From left to right. We don’t know what the title of the pattern was, but the fragment clearly features a hand painted Grecian figure. The name of the following patterns: Egyp[t] or Egyp[tian] and Persian also evoking past cultures. However, in these examples, the scene depicted is unknown as we only found a tiny piece of ceramic! Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

At that time of treasure hunting in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the object itself pulled out of its place was the centre of attention. And that’s not our job. Rather than treasures by themselves, artefacts are precious because they help us to interpret and understand how people used to live. That’s their actual value. And that’s possible to achieve when studying the objects in relation to the context in which they were found. During the latter half of the 20th century, archaeology grew up as science, with the development of methods of fieldwork, recording and cataloguing and the use of specific tools and technologies, shared with other disciplines like anthropology or geology. Archaeology is a social science, so archaeologists are scientists. Unlike fossickers or curio hunters, archaeologists always take notes and make drawings and plans. This is key, because archaeology is essentially preservation by record.

Archaeologist in action! Left: Hamish taking notes on site. Image: T. Anderson. Right: Hamish and I drawing and old curb in the city. Image: H. Williams.

By the sounds of it, the real profile of an archaeologist is unlike the idealised portrait of it. We are far away from one of the most popular archaeologists ever. Who pops up in our minds when thinking of archaeology? Of course, Indiana Jones… except for Hamish! Both share part of the outfit, it’s not the whip but the cool felt hat! Well, archaeologists wear usually safety helmets on site, but in their spare time, wherever archaeologists go, the hat would be a perfect accessory, aye?

Left: Indiana Jones. Image: Rex/Shutterstock. Right: Hamish wearing his felt hat at the Edwin Fox Maritime museum in Picton. Archaeologists do love to soak up the local history! Image: H. Williams.

The fictional image of a female archaeologist is probably even less accurate. Can’t find anything in common between Lara Croft and us. Well, she is presented as a highly intelligent, athletic and beautiful archaeologist… Maybe it is a little bit like us.

Beyond the stereotypes and the history of archaeology, constructed by and starring male archaeologists like Carter or Schliemann, there were women archaeologists as well, although it was ‘not a common thing, for obvious reasons’ (Star 15/04/1914: 7). Perhaps because those were so obvious (irony on going!), none of those reasons were nuanced… Anyway, the point is that Jeanette Le Fleming was an archaeologist. She married in 1885 Sir William Le Fleming, born in Christchurch in 1861, eight Baronet of Rydal and prominent settler in Taranaki district (Evening Post 3/11/1945: 11).

New Zealand’s newspapers in 1932 reported Jeanette’s return to New Zealand after a long trip. ‘In her capacity of archaeologist’ (crikey!), she had visited Norway, Sweden, Estonia, Finland, Latvia and Denmark and investigated ruins in Zimbabwe. Among her experiences overseas, she considered her study of the ruins at Zimbabwe the most interesting of her professional experiences. There Jeanette analysed the acropolis and temple erected under the influence of Babylonian civilization. She wrote many articles on travel subjects, ancient history and archaeology. She published under a nom de plume, ‘which she keeps in complete secret’ and not even her sister was aware of her identification with a certain writer and archaeologist (Evening Post 25/01/1932: 10). Apart from Europe and Russia, Jeanette also travelled to Central and South America, India, China and Japan, among many other places. She preferred travelling alone (yes, a pioneer of women solo travellers!) as she was never afraid, and always keen to nature, climates, archaeology, medieval and other modern curiosities, as well as the present economic conditions of each country (Evening Star 14/12/1936).

Honestly, I’m so jealous! What an inspirational woman! Loving what I also love (and archaeologist in general!), travelling, exploring new places and cultures, being curious all the time, asking questions and looking for answers! Eventually, Jeanette Le Fleming died at her home in 1944, after a long and undoubtedly interesting life! (Evening Post 3/05/1944: 8).

Jeanette Le Fleming. Image: Evening Star 24/09/1938.

As archaeologists working in post-earthquake Christchurch, we also have stories and the archaeology of the early city to tell you through Christchurch Uncovered blog, Facebook, Instagram and public archaeology events. Unquestionably, scientifically recording the past is the best way to preserve it in partnership with all of you, committed people, aware of the significance of our heritage as the witness of the history, the vestiges of the past from which we can learn so much.

To conclude, a summary that describes best what an archaeologist is, how our current day-to-day goes… Love it.

Maria Lillo Bernabeu

References

Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2018. [online] Available at: https://www.britannica.com/ (Accessed October 2018).

Paper Past, 2018. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/ (Accessed October 2018).

Early Christchurch women, breaking the rules: the exhibition.

The ideal Victorian woman

In Victorian society, a woman was to be meek, mild, virtuous and peaceful (Whiteside 2007). She was expected to marry and have children. She would stay at home, looking after her children and her husband and keeping the house perfectly. Public affairs were men’s matters, although a woman might engage in charitable or other social works, but nothing that could in any way be construed as ‘masculine’. She was selfless – everyone else always came first. She certainly wasn’t involved in politics, and nor did she run a business. At least, that was the theory!

Left: M Heslop & Co (Christchurch) fl 1870s: Portrait of unidentified man, woman and child. Ref: PA2-2063. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/23056667. Right: well, it would be an alternative middle class family! Image: Observer 14/11/1903.

In fact, this standard was mostly applied to middle class women, and it seems to have been much less unusual for working class women to, well, work. But there were middle class women who broke these ‘rules’ of Victorian society too, in a range of ways. Discovering the lives of a number of these women in 19th century Christchurch – and our fascination with their ‘hidden’ lives – has led us to curate an exhibition: Women breaking the rules. You can see the physical display at Rewind at Ferrymead Heritage Park on Sunday 14 October, and also follow these women’s stories online via our Instagram exhibition @womenbreakingtherules.

Designed by A. Gibson.

But regardless of class, women were always defined in relation to the men in their life, whether father, brother or husband. So, being a spinster could be difficult and challenging. Much as we might not like it in this day in age, men provided often critical financial security for the women in their lives, particularly in a world where there was no pension or unemployment benefit, let alone a domestic purposes benefit. In fact, there was no state support of any kind in New Zealand until the end of the 19th century, and the poor were reliant on charities for support.

Unlike spinsters, widows seem to have had far more freedom and to have been more ‘respectable’ than unmarried women. While their situation might have been financially difficult, the range of jobs society approved of them taking on was broader than the range available for single women. And widows – as in some of the stories here – often ended up running their husband’s businesses, meaning they took on a variety of professions (Bishop 2012).

Women and work

Yes, women did work in the Victorian era! And not just as domestic servants – although this was far and way the most common occupation for women. In fact, some women ran businesses of their own. The jobs that women took on, though, and even many of the businesses they ran, tended to involve caring, or to be domestic in character. Jobs like teaching or nursing were both acceptable for middle class women (Bishop 2012).

Working class women could take on quite a range of work: dressmaker, needlework, hotelkeeping, storekeeping, confectionary, haberdashery, drapery and so on. Women could also earn money by taking in boarders, doing laundry or by looking after other women’s children. And let’s not ignore that they could be prostitutes. These were all ways of earning money that might fly under the radar and not be recorded officially (Bishop 2012).

Just relaxing under a tree, along with other women, working in the seaside or the countryside, riding a horse… working women and classy ones, all sort of women depicted through the artefacts! Image: J. Garland, C. Watson and M. Lillo Bernabeu.

Telling women’s stories

As regular readers of the blog will know, researching the lives of most people who lived in 19th century New Zealand is tricky – official records can be patchy or may not even exist (Minchinton 2017). People only turned up in the newspapers if they were famous, got in trouble or were advertising for servants, leasing or selling properties. Unless someone has a really unusual name, you often can’t be certain you’re researching the right person.

Mary Portelli, the antithesis of the Victorian ideal, a woman in endless trouble! Images. Right: Star 29/05/1895: 3. Left: Southland Times 20/09/1906: 2.

Studying women’s lives is even harder. For one thing, they changed their surname when they married. Then, they were often referred to only as Mrs…, without their first name, or including their husband’s name instead – for example, Mrs L. J. Smith. Women who ran businesses often traded under their husband’s name, or didn’t advertise at all (Bishop 2012). And, in general, women’s activities meant they didn’t end up in the newspaper.

The branded china L. J. Smith – and presumably Elizabeth, L. J. Smith’s wife – used at events he organised as caterer. Image: C. Dickson.

Despite these difficulties, archaeology and history reveal the lives of six Christchurch women who, in one way or another, broke the rules of late 19th and early 20th century society: Fanny Cole, prohibitionist; Elizabeth Robinson, chemist; Sarah Gault, dressmaker; Elizabeth Smith, caterer; Caroline Rantin, timber and coal merchant; and Mary Portelli, woman in trouble.

There are no Māori women in this exhibition, unfortunately, because we’ve not found any record of Māori women living in 19th century Christchurch. This isn’t to say that they weren’t, just that we’ve not found them yet. If you want to learn more, we highly recommend checking out the book He Reo Wāhine: Māori Women’s Voices from the Nineteenth Century.

Why are these women important?

These six women were not the only exceptional ones who broke the rules. It turns out that there were many more women pushing the boundaries of Victorian society than we initially expected. The six women we’ve featured in this exhibition serve to highlight the lives and occupations of all these women, along with their concerns and daily battles and how they struggled against what was accepted and respectable (Whiteside 2007), whilst working within the confines of the ideals of that time. But slowly, slowly, pushing these boundaries would come to change society as a whole. So, let’s look at the archaeology and the historical record and bring women into the picture!

This exhibition is a joint production between Underground Overground Archaeology and the Christchurch Archaeology Project.

Katharine Watson and Maria Lillo Bernabeu

References 

Bishop, Catherine, 2012. “Commerce Was a Woman: Women in Business in Colonial Sydney and Wellington.” PhD thesis, Australian National University.

Minchinton, Barbara, 2017. “’Prostitutes’ and ‘lodgers’ in Little Lon: construction a list of occupiers in nineteenth-century Melbourne”. Australasian Historical Archaeology, 35, pp. 64-70.

Whiteside, Heidi, 2017. “’We Shall Be Respectable’: Women and Representations of Respectability in Lyttelton 1851-1893”. MA thesis, University of Canterbury.

Discovering Christchurch’s Classical past

Being a Roman archaeologist by trade, wherever I go in the world I seem to sniff out some classical antiquities. Some call it a talent, some call it an obsession (I’ll leave that to you to decide…). There’s something about the ancient civilisations that get me really excited and if I’ve had a tough day on a muddy site in the freezing cold New Zealand winter I go home and grab my copy of Tacitus (or watch an episode of the BBC’s ‘Rome’ –  it’s all about balance, right?) to remind me why I fell in love with archaeology.

Me, sat outside my idea of heaven: Ara Pacis Augustae, Rome. Sometimes watching Gladiator suffices though. Image: Colin Davidson.

I was exceptionally lucky to grow up right next to Hadrian’s Wall in the North East of England, so I’ve been surrounded by classical influences my entire life. This is quite likely why I wanted to go on to study it at a higher level. When I was studying Roman archaeology at Newcastle University I actually got to dig on Hadrian’s Wall a few times, so I count myself very fortunate. Moving to the opposite side of the world (literally), I have encountered a very different type of archaeology, which I love experiencing in equal measure. But I need my classical fix. Que the Teece Museum of Classical Antiquities. If you haven’t heard of it, you’re about to.

Hadrian’s Wall; once the northern boundary of the Roman Empire and keeping out those uncivilised Scots (sorry Dad). Image: Creative Commons

Now Christchurch wouldn’t be the first place I would think of when I’m wistfully daydreaming of Ancient Rome or Athens but I was wrong (shocking, I know). The University of Canterbury offers an outstanding opportunity to get up close to artefacts from the Ancient World in the form of the Teece Museum, now located in the UC Arts Building in the CBD. While visiting the museum is free, donations are strongly recommended – not only because we need to keep funding our arts and heritage sectors (I won’t start ranting, don’t worry), but because the museum itself has its origins in just that activity; donating. The James Logie Collection came from a single donor, Miss Marion Steven, in 1957. And from here the story of classical antiquities in Christchurch has grown. The collection was the ‘brainchild’ of UC Classics staff member Marion Steven (pictured below, exploring Rome a bit like myself), whose passion for Greek pottery provided the foundation for the Logie Collection. She taught at the University between 1944 and 1977 and married James Logie, Registrar of the College from 1950 until his death in 1956. The collection was established as a tribute to her husband and since then has been a commemoration to both James and Marion.

Miss Marion Steven, Rome, c.1970. Image: Copyright UC.

The story of classical antiquities in Christchurch is, however, fairly different to most places. When the 6.2 magnitude 2011 Canterbury Earthquake struck, artefacts literally jumped and turned (apparently the CCTV footage is quite something). The quakes resulted in around three quarters of the collection being damaged, but (luckily) there was no water or fire damage. If there had been, I would be telling a very different story right now. What astounds me the most about Christchurch in general are the positive perspectives that people have taken from the rebuild process, and meeting with Terri Elder (the collection’s curator who joined the team post-quake), provided me with yet another example of this. What we often don’t think about when visiting museums is the stuff that’s kept in storage. Only a small proportion of a collection is shown at any time. New exhibitions are always being put together and the artefacts that aren’t currently on display are kept in storage. Whilst the earthquake caused major issues for collection, they’ve taken the time to learn from what happened and make improvements to the storage alongside the repair of the artefacts, many of which had historic repairs that were not up to current conservatory standards.

Storage units for museums and archives are usually  large rolling units (seen below).This rolling design allows you to open one ‘corridor’ at a time and therefore doesn’t waste space in between shelves (like  a library for example). While this method is a necessity to save valuable space, I’m sure you’ll agree that  rolling units with valuable objects and earthquakes don’t really mix. While no significant damage happened to the collection that was in storage, lessons were nonetheless learnt. These lessons resulted in modifications to the storage, such as the straps across the shelves which are designed to catch and stop the boxes from falling to the floor in the event of another quake. In addition, the units all lock into place when you open them to prevent users becoming trapped between the units.

The storage units with the post-earthquake modifications. Image: Copyright UC.

As an immediate reaction following the quake, the collection was to be packed away in its entirety. This, which could be perceived as a step backwards, oddly turned into a positive for the museum as it meant that schools visiting the collection in the period after the quakes got to handle the collection because it was in storage rather than on display behind a glass case. The collection began to be used in a more hands-on manner, which makes the artefacts (as well as the time period they came from) more real and vibrant to those learning about them.  There’s often a perception that artefacts in museums aren’t to be handled, and while that’s true for the pieces on display in cases, artefacts are constantly  handled when curators, researchers and archaeologists are learning more about them.

Another positive taken from this situation was the opportunity to remove historic repairs that weren’t up to scratch, which often included staples and discoloured glues. Since these original repairs had been done, the conservation industry has moved forward in leaps and bounds. The new repairs (an example of can be seen below) are all reversible. Now that’s pretty neat. And yes, the artefacts have suffered more fractures during the recent quake but in my humble opinion these new fractures are a new addition  to the story; it was once whole, then lost and forgotten (and likely broken), then found by archaeologists (or collectors), repaired and put on display, and then caught up in the Canterbury Quakes. This is just another stepping stone in the life of an artefact.

Conservator at work on a dog mosaic. Image: Copyright UC.

Before and after treatment of a black-figure lip cup. Image: JLMC 1.53, Copyright UC.

If improvements to the storage and artefacts weren’t enough, the space in which we can now see the collection has had an upgrade too! Pictured below, the space at UC Arts Building now features cases fixed to the wall, with thick safety glass. The cases in the middle are moveable, but there are latches throughout the space that they can be attached to, so with every changing exhibition the space changes but remains safe. Within every case each artefact has a unique mount inside, invisible to the museum visitor, but designed hold the item steady in the event of more earthquakes. None of this was in place prior to 2011, so you’re able to see (or at least visualise) how hard Terri and the team have worked to make the space safe and useable.

Interior view of the Teece Museum gallery. Image: Copyright UC. Photographer Duncan Shaw Brown.

I may be a tad bias, but I think we’re exceptionally lucky to have a collection such as this in Christchurch and, with it now being housed within the CBD, there’s really no excuse not to go along and have a look for yourself. The Teece Museum of Classical Antiquities is located on Level 1 of the UC Arts city building (Old Chemistry) at 3 Hereford Street, in the historic Christchurch Arts Centre. The museum is open to the public Wednesday through to Sunday from 11am to 3pm. See you there!

 

Contact the museum:

Email: [email protected]

Facebook: www.facebook.com/teecemuseum/

Instagram: www.instagram.com/teecemusem/

 

Special thanks to Terri Elder and the Teece Museum for their help in making this blog post possible.

Kathy Davidson