It’s All Child’s Play

When I think of childhood in the 19th century, my mind goes back to visits to museums and heritage parks with rooms and displays set up to replicate key spaces in Victorian society: the household, the blacksmiths, the doctor’s office and the school. Visits to these places always instilled me with the opinion that the 19th century was not a good time to be a child.

This opinion had a multitude of influences. Tales of high child and infant mortality rates, with the impression of an accompanying belief that it was a waste of time to invest love and attention into children when they would most likely just die, coloured my perception of children’s home lives. If the child did survive, then they were most likely put to work as a chimney sweep or in a factory, where they would probably die because the industrial revolution was not known for its health and safety practices (at least not in the first part of the century). If they were lucky enough to go to school, then they probably got put in a corner with a dunce cap or were beaten with a cane. Various sayings like “spare the rod and spoil the child” and “children should be seen and not heard” enforced this opinion.

There is truth in this view. A quick search through the death notices in old newspapers, or a wander through an old cemetery, will very quickly show that many infants and children died at a young age. This is confirmed in infant mortality rate statistics, with the infant mortality rate fluctuating between 7.1% and 12.6% in the 19th century (in comparison the modern infant mortality rate is 0.4%). Tales of children working in factories will come up in almost any summary of the industrial revolution, as will stories of strict teachers in summaries on Victorian schools. But to say that life was completely awful for a Victorian child would be a mistake, and it is certainly not the impression given by the archaeological record here in Christchurch.

If I had to think of an artefact that encapsulated the worst aspects of Victorian childhood, then it would be this. This unassuming artefact is the stopper from an infant feeder bottle, later given the nickname “Murder Bottle”. This name comes from the design of the bottle, which was difficult to clean, resulting in a build-up of bacteria that was only made worse by household guru Mrs Beeton recommending they were only cleaned every two to three weeks. Funnily enough, the bottles stopped being popular near the end of the 19th century when the medical community condemned them. Image: C. Watson. 

Infant bottle feeders aside, most of the artefacts relating to children that we find in Christchurch can be divided into three categories: play, education, and foodways, with some overlapping between categories. But before we have a look at these, I first want to delve into what we specifically mean by childhood. On one hand, childhood is simply that fun period of your life with no responsibilities before you have to work, pay bills and worry about the inevitable collapse of society as a result of climate change – i.e. a developmental stage on the way to being an adult. On the other hand, childhood is a social construct, and different societies differentiate the differences between childhood and adulthood in different ways, and at different ages (this video here gives a quick summary of childhood as a social construct, but if you really love theory then check out this thesis here, which takes a very detailed look at the theory of childhood). Childhood itself is influenced by many factors, (the child’s biology, the environment they grow up in, the education they receive), with the overall view that these factors influence the type of adult they will become. In this way, the child can be seen as either a passive receptor (being influenced by the factors that contribute to their childhood), or an active agent, engaging in and influencing their childhood (Vlahos 2014).

One of the key aspects of childhood is play. Play is a culturally universal phenomenon, observed across all societies as a significant and distinctive activity (Vlahos 2014: 260). It’s also what we see most frequently in the archaeological record in Christchurch, when we’re looking at the archaeological evidence for the presence of children.

Dolls are probably the most common artefact relating to children that we find on archaeological sites here in Christchurch. This is probably related to the fact that most of the dolls we find in Christchurch are made from ceramic, which tends to preserve well. We generally find two types of dolls. The first are jointed dolls. These had a cloth body to which a porcelain head, arms and legs were attached, with the limbs and heads surviving. The second are Frozen Charlotte Dolls. These were small naked figurines, inspired by ballad Fair Charlotte which described the story of a young girl who froze to death in a sleigh on her way to a ball. Most of the dolls shown here are Frozen Charlottes or jointed doll parts, although there are two more decorative figurines. Also pictured down the bottom is my personal favourite, a jointed doll’s head with inlaid teeth. Image: C. Watson.

Also relatively common are marbles. We find a great variety of marbles, ranging from cheap clay “commies” to glazed bennington marbles to glass marbles with various swirls and patterns. Image: C. Watson.

The artefacts that inspired this blog post: miniatures. Most of these artefacts come from one assemblage, which was quite unique for both the quantity and variety of miniature vessels it contained. Prior to this I had never found a miniature ladle before! Image: C. Watson.

These artefacts tell us much more than just that there were children present at the sites – they tell us about childhood in the 19th century. All of these toys were likely made by adults, and probably chosen by adults for the respective children. As such, childhood is often heavily influenced by the adults surrounding a child.  Many of the toys were likely intended to be played with in a manner that would prepare the children for adulthood. Dolls and miniature tea and dinner sets would prepare girls for their future role as mothers and homemakers, and let them mimic activities that they saw their own mothers doing. Whilst there were a variety of different games to be played with marbles, most of them had the main objective of obtaining all the marbles. The intricacies of marble trading, with some worth more than others, prepared children for the capitalist society they were entering (Vlahos 2014).

The education factor of childhood is more explicit in other artefacts, often those also associated with food, such as plates and cans intended for use by children. And of course we also find artefacts specifically associated with education itself, such as writing slate and slate pencils.

Cans and plates intended for use by children were often printed with educational designs (along with other fun patterns). These could be an alphabet printed as part of the pattern, encouraging the child to learn to read. Or they could have a morality theme. The can on the bottom right depicts two men gardening, with a sailboat shown in the background. The pattern refers back to one of Dr Benjamin Franklin’s maxims, specifically his maxim “industry needs not wish, and he that lives upon hope will die fasting, there are no gains without pains, then help hands for I have no lands”. The illustration was taken from 24 scenes of town and country life illustrating Franklin’s “lessons for the young and the old, on industry, temperance, frugality &c” by Robert Drighton, published by Bowles and Carver, London in 1795 (Riley 1991: 270). These illustrations and maxims were probably familiar to children in the 19th century, and vessels decorated with them were intended to help with children’s moral education. Image: C. Watson.

And, of course, we find artefacts associated with education itself. The Victorian child’s schooling was slightly different to that of modern children- slate tablets rather than iPads! Also different was the inclusion of things beyond the three Rs, skills like needlework and woodwork were also taught to prepare children for adulthood. Image: C. Watson

How well the perception of childhood based on the archaeological record matches reality is something we can’t really tell from the archaeological record alone. If we view children simply as passive actors, then we can assume that if a girl was given a doll, then she played with it as if it was her own child, as was intended by the adult who gave it to her, and then she grew up to be a good mother. But if we view children as complex individuals and active agents, then the girl may have played with it as if it was her own child one day, but on another day sacrificed it in a witch’s spell make believe game, or given it to her brother to play with, or used it in any other type of play other than what was intended. Intended function versus actual function is a bugbear of archaeology – is the ceramic cup we found actually part of a tea set, or is it from the flour bin where it was used as a scoop? And, of course, while we’re talking about bugbears of archaeology, I can’t really assume that the toys we’ve found mean that there were children at the site (Mills 2010). They could represent mementos collected by adults to remind them of their own childhood. In the case of children, I think it’s safe to assume that whilst children may have played with toys as intended, they also likely used them imaginatively and played all sorts of games with them.

Unfortunately, I can’t go back and ask any of the children from my sites how they played with their toys. But what I can say is that play was likely an important part of childhood in 19th century Christchurch. A quick survey of the assemblages I’ve analysed over the past couple of years revealed that just over half of them contained artefacts relating to children, and that those which didn’t were generally small assemblages (2-20 artefacts) from sites that only had minimal excavation, indicating that artefacts relating to children are relatively common finds. Reading 19th century newspapers and manuals on the management of children (which didn’t make it into this blog after it somehow took a very theoretical turn) also frequently refer to play, and clearly indicate that it was an important part of childhood (Barrett 1883; Royal College of Physicians London 1889). And so my view that the 19th century was not a good time to be a child has changed. I have revised it to that the 19th century was an okay time to be a child, provided that you survived and weren’t employed as a chimney sweep.

I went into researching for this blog with the preconceived notion that I was going to be astounded by Victorian parenting advice. Instead, I found that most of what I read was relatively relatable. I thought this piece of advice on how to keep children occupied was a nice way to end the blog- I certainly remember whining to my mum as a child that I was bored and that there was nothing to do, but being all too happy to go off and play if I was made to bring the firewood in. Image: Daily Telegraph 04/04/1891: 2.   

Clara Watson

References

Barrett, H. 1883. The management of infancy and childhood, in health and disease. G. Routledge, London. Available: https://archive.org/details/b21931574

Riley, N. 1991. Gifts for Good Children: the history of children’s china, 1790-1890. Richard Dennis, Somerset.

Royal College of Physicians of London. 1889. Suggestions to mothers on the management of their children. Churchill, London. Available: https://archive.org/details/b2398434x

Mills, R. 2010. Miniatures in historical archaeology: Toys, trifles and trinkets re-examined. Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of Leicester, School of Archaeology and Ancient History. Available: http://www.firesofprometheus.org/dissertation_1.pdf

Vlahos, M. 2014. Developing an Archaeology of Childhood Experiences in Australia 1788-1901. Unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Queensland, School of Social Science. Available: https://espace.library.uq.edu.au/view/UQ:344451

The Ng King Brothers Chinese Market Garden Settlement

Today on the blog we’re talking about an exciting project that we’ve been involved with over the past few months. In 2013 the Ashburton District Council took over stewardship of the Ng King Brothers Chinese Market Garden Settlement on Allens Road, Ashburton, making a commitment to administer the land as a reserve and to preserve the heritage values of the property. The Ng King Brothers were Chinese market gardeners, owning and operating the largest market garden in the South Island. In its heyday the gardens served people across the Ashburton district, with over 80 people lived at the property. Today it appears to be the only Chinese market gardening settlement with original buildings still intact in New Zealand (Baird 2017: 22).

Buildings from the Ng King Brothers Chinese Market Garden Settlement. Image: Baird 2017: 36.

The Ng family were a group of brothers from Taishan in the Guangdong province, China. The family settled in Gore in 1905, opening a laundry and a market garden, with more family members arriving from China in 1917 (Baird 2017: 7). Market gardening had become a common occupation for Chinese following the end of most goldmining in the 1890s. The Chinese adapted the gardening skills they had brought with them to the New Zealand climate, purchasing or leasing land to grow fruit and vegetables on that they then sold at markets or in shops.

The arrival of the Ng family to New Zealand came after the main period of early Chinese immigration that took place during the 1860s Otago goldrush. Chinese miners had gained a reputation on the Australian goldfields for working hard and living frugally and were invited to the Otago goldfields following the initial rush. The first Chinese miners arrived in Otago in 1865, providing a new workforce for the region after many of the original miners had moved on to goldfields in Hokitika and Nelson. By 1872 there were 4,700 Chinese in New Zealand, with many coming directly from China rather than via the Australian goldfields (Baird 2017: 7).

The move to a foreign country with a different people, language, culture and customs must have been daunting for the Ng family. This move was likely made even more difficult by the open hostility of New Zealanders towards the Chinese.  Despite the Chinese being invited to New Zealand in the 1860s, anti-Chinese sentiments had developed within the mostly white New Zealand population over the following decades. In 1881 the New Zealand government introduced a poll tax of £10 per person to discourage further Chinese immigration. This increased to £100 per person in 1896, with a reading test introduced later as well (Lam et al. 2018: 12). Further anti-Chinese legislation was introduced during the twentieth century, with a 1908 act denying the Chinese the right to become naturalised. This act remained in place until 1951, and under it Chinese had to register and report any changes to their name, address or employment with the police. Anti-Chinese settlement was strong at the start of the twentieth century, with organisations such as the Anti-Asiatic League, Anti-Chinese League, and the White New Zealand League appearing (Lam et al. 2018: 14).

A common sentiment among anti-Chinese groups was the perception that Chinese market gardeners were taking business away from European market gardeners. This view, expressed in newspapers of the time, was somewhat unfounded given Chinese fruiterers and greengrocers always made up less than half of the total fruiterers and greengrocers in New Zealand between 1874 and 1945 (Lam et al. 2018: 16). Image: Observer 12/12/1896: 11.

Following a flood that damaged their gardens in Gore, the Ng family moved to Ashburton in 1921 and established a market garden on Allens Road, trading under the name of King Bros. The name ‘King’ came from a mixture of the European pronunciation of Ng as ‘Ning’ and the name ‘Kane’ which was the middle part of four of the Ng brothers birth names (Baird 2017: 9). The King Bros were highly successful, and their garden became the largest in the South Island. The brothers travelled by horse and cart around the district to sell their vegetables, also running a store from one of the sheds in the yard on Allens Road. The horses and carts were replaced with trucks in the 1940s, with these travelling to Mt Somers, Mayfield, Chertsey, Rakaia, Hinds and Methven once a week to sell vegetables to the farms there (Lam et al. 2018: 113). In 1945 the King Bros established a fruit shop in Burnett Street. With the expansion of the business they began travelling to Christchurch to buy additional produce to sell at the store.

The King Bros partners in the 1930s. Image: Ashburton Museum and Historical Society Collection and Ng Family (Baird 2017: 7).

In 1964 Young King, along with his sons Yep, Hong and Tong, formed a partnership and took over the King Bros fruit shop in Burnett Street (Lam et al. 2018: 114). Young King was one of the original Ng brothers who formed the King Bros partnership. He came from the Wing Loon village in Taishan at age 15 to join his brothers in New Zealand. Like the rest of the Ng family members that were living in Ashburton, Young had a wife and children back in China, and he made several trips back to Taishan to visit them during the 1930s and 1940s. The poll-tax and other anti-Chinese legislation prevented Young from moving his family to New Zealand.

In 1938 the Japanese forces, that had previously invaded China in 1931, moved into southern China attacking the home villages of the New Zealand Chinese. Young’s family village was in the south and his family were living with the threat of the Japanese. After appeals by the New Zealand Chinese Association and the Presbyterian Church, the New Zealand government allowed Chinese refugees to flee to New Zealand. Between 1939 and 1941, 249 women and 244 children made the journey to New Zealand, joining their husbands and fathers that had previously been living alone (Lam et al. 2018: 17). In 1949 Young’s family was allowed to immigrate to New Zealand as war refugees and, following the legislation changes of the 1950s, the family became New Zealand citizens in 1963. The reuniting of families resulted in a new generation of Chinese New Zealanders that were born in New Zealand during and following the war years.

By the mid-twentieth century New Zealand perceptions of the Chinese had changed, and some of the outright racism seen in earlier decades had disappeared. During the war there were Chinese who enlisted to fight overseas, whilst others served the country by producing food for troops. In the 1950s the New Zealand government changed its stance on the Chinese, allowing them to become naturalised again. However, it wasn’t until 1986 that the immigration status of Chinese and European migrants was made equal. In 2002 the New Zealand government apologised to the Chinese people for the racist legislation that was enacted during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and established the Chinese Poll Tax Heritage Trust as compensation.

View of a Chinese market garden during World War II. Ref: 1/4-001319-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.  /records/23130866.

The 1964 partnership between Young King and his sons Yep, Hong and Tong resulted in a new period of prosperity for the business. After they had taken over the shop on Burnett Street, the father and sons gutted and refitted the store, with the 1965 grand reopening reported in the newspapers. In 1966 they expanded, opening an additional store on Harrison Street. Young and Yep managed the daily running of the shops, whilst Hong and Tong bought produce at the markets to supply the shops, wholesale orders and the country runs (Lam et al. 2018: 114). The King Bros dominated the Ashburton market, supplying hotels, dairies, grocery stores, hospitals, boarding-houses, ski lodges, shearing gangs and Ministry of Work camps with fruit and vegetables (Lam et al. 2018: 115).

Richard Yee (left) and Young King (right) in a 1957 parade. Image: Ashburton Museum and Historical Society Collection and Ng Family (Baird 2017: 9).

The King Bros were one of the most well-known businesses in Ashburton and generations of Ashburtonians purchased their vegetables from the shop on Burnett Street. However, with the advent of supermarkets, business slowed. Hong left the partnership in the early 1980s whilst Tong managed the shop on Harrison Street until it sold in 1986. Family members moved into other ventures, with several shifting out of Ashburton. Yep King continued to run the shop in Burnett Street until his retirement in 2006 (Lam et al. 2018: 116).

The settlement on Allens Road played an important role in the development of the King Bros business. Buildings on the site included bedrooms for single men, houses for families, communal eating and dining rooms, a kitchen, an office, food storage sheds, garage and work sheds, a laundry and washroom, a school room and, of course, the shop. It was the home of various generations of the Ng King family and was once a busy and vibrant community. With the closing of the business and various family members embarking on other ventures, the settlement now sits empty.

As part of the Ashburton District Council’s stewardship of the property, the council has agreed to preserve the heritage values of the site. From this, Heritage New Zealand became involved in the project, and through them we were asked to volunteer our time. Whilst the Ng King Chinese Market Garden Settlement might not meet the definition of an archaeological site under the 2014 Pouhere Taonga Heritage New Zealand Act, it is still an archaeological site in its own right. Archaeology is the study of human history and culture through material remains, and is not limited to a specific time-period. Anything and everything from stone tools created by early hominids to flip-top cellphones from the early 2000s is and can be considered archaeology.

The Ng King Brothers Chinese Market Garden Settlement is significant for many reasons. It’s important to the descendants of the family, many of whom have fond memories of the place, it’s important to the Chinese community as the only known Chinese market gardening settlement that still has buildings intact, it’s important to the Ashburton district with the King Bros playing a prominent role in the history of the town, and it’s important to anyone who has a passion for local history and believes in the recording and protection of heritage. Treating the settlement as an archaeological site and using archaeological methods means that objects, that might be seen by some as old junk, are viewed as being part of the social fabric of the site and are properly catalogued and researched.

Our role in the project has been doing just that, cataloguing the objects that were found during some of the works at the site. We’re still in the middle of analysing the artefacts, and we’ll likely write a follow-up blog post later on in the year that goes into more detail on what exactly was found. But so far one of the most interesting classes of artefact material that we’ve found has been shoes. Lots of complete shoes, 29 so far, were recovered from the site, along with fragments from at least another 40. Shoes are one of those interesting artefacts as they’re so personal. Everything from the style of shoe to the wear patterns on the sole and if it’s been repaired speaks to the choices and actions of the person who wore it. It’s like that saying, “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes”. Whilst the King Bros are still well-remembered by current Ashburton residents, that won’t always be the case as more time passes. By preserving the King Bros settlement, future generations may be able to walk around the buildings, look at items like the shoes and wonder what it was like to be a Chinese worker at a market garden in the mid-twentieth century.

Some of the many shoes found at the Ng King Brothers Chinese Market Garden Settlement, each able to tell a different story about the person who wore it. Image: E. Warwick.

Clara Watson

 Acknowledgements

Thanks to members of the King family for their feedback on this blog post and support of the project.

References

Baird, A. 2017. Ashburton Chinese Settlement Allens Road, Ashburton: Heritage & Restoration Assessment. Unpublished report for the Ashburton District Council.

Lam, R., B. Lowe, H. Wong, M. Wong, C. King. 2018. The Fruits of Our Labours: Chinese Fruit Shops in New Zealand Volume 1. Chinese Poll Tax Heritage Trust, Wellington.

 

 

 

‘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).