A Disturbing Discovery

Disclaimer: the topics discussed in this blog post include descriptions of murder, torture and rape. Reader discretion is advised.

 

It was around a year ago that Underground Overground Archaeology again hit the mainstream news, this time with stories about our excavations at the site of the new Court Theatre (a few of those stories here, here, and here). While it’s great when media outlets publish stories about the archaeological work that we do, there are definitely pros and cons to the pieces. The main pro is, of course, that a much wider range of people get to hear about the archaeological work that we do in Christchurch, rather than just those that follow us on social media or keep up with this blog. The cons are that because the journalists that are reporting the stories aren’t archaeologists and often have word or time limits to keep to, their stories can be quite brief and often focus in on the stereotype that the only thing us archaeologists are interested in is ‘treasure’. Now, don’t get me wrong, us archaeologists are the first to get excited when we find a rare or unusual artefact, but we’re not pirates. For us, the real ‘treasure’ is the stories that the artefacts tell us about the lives of people of the past, rather than the artefacts themselves. Working out those stories comes long after excavation is finished and only happens once we have gone through all of the information we’ve collected, the notes on the features that we took when we excavated them, the results of the artefact analysis, and the information that we can draw from the historical record, and see what these three information sources, along with anything else we might have access to, can tell us. A lot of the time when we’re getting mainstream media interest, it’s at the time of the archaeological excavation, meaning that we haven’t yet worked out all the interesting stories as we are only at the start of figuring them out. That was very much the case when we were being interviewed about the Court Theatre site, where one of the ‘treasures’ that the journalists were most interested in was a clay pipe. A year later, we are now at a point where we’ve done most of the artefact analysis and we can actually start to narrow down some of those stories that the artefacts from the site are able to tell us.

A classic example of the use of ‘treasure’ by the mainstream media. While they’re not wrong, it does perpetuate the stereotype of archaeologists as Indiana Jones type figures, which is very much not the case. Image: Otago Daily Times.

The clay pipe in question is probably the most violent and confronting artefact that we’ve had come out of an archaeological site in Christchurch, at least in recent years. The pipe was elaborately moulded and depicted a man, wearing a turban and Indian style dress, holding a sword above his shoulder, ready to strike. Next to him is a woman lying with one arm raised, her chest bare and her dress pooled at her waist. A baby lies at her feet. A woman is shown fleeing on the side of the bowl. Stamped on the stem of the pipe was “NA NA SAIB” and “DELHI”.

Image: C. Watson

The clay pipe is depicting an event known as the Bibighar massacre, which took place within the 1857 Indian Rebellion. This rebellion happened when sepoys, or Indian soldiers, mutinied against the East India Company. The East India Company had had a presence in India since the early 17th century, and by the 19th century was effectively responsible for the government of India and was employing sepoys within their army. The reasons behind the mutiny were complicated but were mainly a result of an accumulation of grievances, mostly around the structure of the army and treatment of the sepoys, and the treatment of landowners and high-status individuals by the British. Sepoys in Meerut and Delhi mutinied against the British officers in May of 1857, with the rebel sepoys taking control of Delhi. News of the mutinies spread, with sepoys in some regions also rebelling, while in other regions sepoys fought for the British. In June of 1857, the sepoys under the leadership of the British General Wheeler at Cawnpore (Kanpur) mutinied. This led to the Siege of Cawnpore, where General Wheeler, the British soldiers, and their families, were trapped by the rebel sepoys in an entrenchment for three weeks with little water or food. The siege came to an end on the 27th of June when Nana Saib, an Indian nobleman who was a prominent leader in the rebellion, offered safe passage to Wheeler and the British to the nearby river where they could board boats and leave Cawnpore. Wheeler trusted Nana, as prior to the rebellion he had been an ally to the East India Company. However, upon reaching the riverbank and beginning to board the boats, the Indian sepoys opened fire on the British, resulting in many casualties. The 120 women and children that survived the massacre were re-captured and taken as captives. They were taken to a local house, Bibighar, with a group of another 80 women and children captured from another town later also taken to the house. On July 15, this group of women and children were massacred in a brutal killing.

Sir Joseph Noel Paton painted In Memoriam in 1858 in honour of the victims of the Bibighar massacre. We suspect that this painting was one of the source works that inspired the design of the pipe, particularly the positioning of the central woman and child.

The Chamber of Blood’ is a tinted lithograph by Vincent Brooks after Lieutenant C W Crump, Madras Artillery, No. 2. It was part of the series ‘A Pictorial Record of the Cawnpore Massacre’ published by Henry Graves and Co., London, in 1858.

A memorial to the women and children killed in the massacre was erected by the British. The memorial is built over the well in which the women and children’s bodies were thrown.Image: S. Bourne.

Many reasons have been suggested for why the women and children were killed. Some historians have suggested that they were killed in the hope that it would stop East India Company forces from approaching Cawnpore. Others have suggested that it was to stop information from being leaked to the British if Cawnpore fell, or to undermine Nana Saib’s relationship with the British, or that it was simply an act of revenge for British murders of Indian civilians. Following the massacre at Bibighar, British soldiers retook Cawnpore and took the sepoys as prisoners. The British forced the sepoys to lick the blood that stained the walls and floors of the Bibighar as punishment. They were then hung, or ‘blew from the cannon’, a method of execution where the victim is tied to the mouth of a cannon, which is then fired. This method was used by the British in India as it destroyed the body and prevented Hindu and Muslim funerary rites from being carried out on the victim.  By the end of 1857, the British had largely regained control, with the final rebels defeated in June of 1858. The acts that took place as part of the Indian Mutiny included atrocious acts of violence by both sides. The rebellion resulted in the dissolution of the East India Company by the Government of India Act 1858, with the governing of India transferred to the British Crown.

Going back to the clay pipe that we found at the Court Theatre site, from an example in the Amsterdam Pipe Museum we know that the pipe was manufactured by French pipe manufacturers L. Fiolet. Louis Fiolet was a French pipe manufacturer based as St. Omer. Fiolet took over his grandfather’s business in 1834, adopting the usage of the ‘L. Fiolet’ mark at this time. Around 1885 Fiolet went into partnership with his son-in-law, George Audebert, as Fiolet and Audebert. Fiolet died in 1892 and the firm operated as Audebert Fiolet from 1893 onwards. Fiolet pipes are said to be second only to Gambier pipes in quality, and the company was one of the most prominent French pipe manufacturers in the 19th century, having a base in France and a shop in London (Hammond, 1987). While we can’t include a picture of the example from the Amsterdam Pipe Museum due to copyright, you can view it by clicking on the hyperlink. The Amsterdam Pipe Museum example shows that the pipe was coloured, with the Indian attacker’s skin coloured brown, and the British woman and the baby’s skin painted pink. Presumably our pipe was also painted, but that decoration  has weathered off our pipe due to it being buried in the ground for over 150 years.

At the time of our interviews a year ago, while we had worked out that the pipe was inspired by the Indian Mutiny, and we knew that it was made by L. Fiolet, we didn’t know the details of the Bibighar massacre that inspired the pipe. Having read the account of that massacre, it shines a new light on the brutality of the pipe. At the time of our interview, we made reference to how the pipe speaks to the globalised nature of the 19th century, the pipe being a French made pipe, inspired by Indian historical events, found in New Zealand. But it’s only now that we have done the more detailed research, that a more nuanced view appears.

The first reports of the Siege of Cawnpore and the massacre of British civilians were embellished by shocking tales of rape, torture and mutilation. Nana Saib, with his role in the munity and the massacre, became known as the ‘Tiger of Cawnpore’. Nana was the face of the massacre for the British public, and as a result of that became a pop culture villain who was referenced in tales about savagery and resistance to British authority within the empire. Plays, ballads, stories and paintings were quickly produced, with the sentiment of ‘remember Cawnpore’ an underlying message (Wallace, 2015). It is highly likely that Fiolet, with their presence in London and their targeting of the British market, were influenced by the popular culture of the period to produce the pipe, with the smoking pipe just one of several pop culture artefacts depicting the events of the mutiny and massacre. The depictions of Nana and the massacre in popular culture acted as propaganda, which was used by the British to generate public support for the British response to the rebellion, as well as justification for some of the atrocities carried out by British soldiers.

The design of the smoking pipe highlights the British view of the mutiny, and of Nana Saib as the ‘Tiger of Cawnpore’. The Indian sepoy’s skin is coloured brown, he is wearing a turban and Indian dress, and is armed with an Indian style sword, all clear indicators of his race and position. The woman is bare breasted, her clothes pooling at her waist and her hair loose. Her skin is painted pink, a clear reference to her ethnicity as British, and her half-nakedness both symbolises her vulnerability and gives connotations of rape. The baby at her feet is also painted pink and is naked, emphasising its vulnerability. The scene of the pipe depicts the atrocity of the Bibighar massacre and the most horrific of the actions by the Indians at the Siege of Cawnpore and is clearly designed for the British narrative of the events. The choice to depict women and children as the primary victims of the mutiny, rather than the largely male-dominated East India Company and military power structures the sepoys were rebelling against, was a deliberate one, and can be seen as the weaponization of white femininity in defence of the (patriarchal, European) imperial power structures at play in India at the time. Of course, historical events are often filled with contesting views. If the pipe manufacturer had been influenced by the Indian sepoy perspective on the Siege of Cawnpore, then the pipe might show the sepoys attacking the British, or the British forcing the sepoys to lick blood off the walls of the Bibighar, or tying them to cannons to execute them. In the 21st century we can’t ignore the power imbalances created by colonialism and the impossible standards that disempowered people were held to, where there was never a correct means of resistance. But we can acknowledge this and acknowledge that the British also committed atrocities, while still viewing what was done to the British women and children as a horrific act.

For the Victorian British and the perspective that was created through depictions of the mutiny in popular culture, Nana was the embodiment of the nightmare of British imperialism and empire building. He represented “the latent treachery of all subject races, the rejection of British Progress, the destruction of the sacred family unit” (Wallace, 2015: 611). The rubbish pit in which our smoking pipe was found dates to the 1860s, around the year 1866. In 1860s New Zealand, the New Zealand Wars were being fought in Taranaki and Waikato. By understanding the history of the events that the pipe depicts, and the image of Nana Saib in Victorian popular culture as the Tiger of Cawnpore, one has to wonder if the pipe’s presence in Christchurch was intended as a warning to British colonists living in the city, a reminder of what the local population can do when oppressed. The pipe is more than an example of the global trade connections that existed in the 19th century, it’s a symbol of British imperialism and the consequences of that. And understanding that history, and the relevance of that history to our current day society, is the true treasure that archaeology can uncover.

Clara Watson

References

Hammond, P., 1987. The London Commercial Agents of French Clay Pipe Manufacturers Fiolet and Audebert Fiolet. Society for Clay Pipe Research Newsletter. 15: 16-21.

Wallace, B., 2015. Nana Sahib in British Culture and Memory. The Historical Journal. 58 (2): 589-613.

 

The Colleen Bawn

The girl I love is beautiful, she’s fairer than the Dawn; She lives in Garryowen, and she’s called the Colleen Bawn

The above quote is taken from Dion Boucicault’s 1860 play, The Colleen Bawn. The play is based on an 1829 novel, The Collegians, written by Gerald Griffin, which itself is based on the 1819 murder of Ellen Hanley. You might be wondering what stories of a murder that took place over 200 years ago have to do with Christchurch archaeology. Well, dear reader, I was wondering the same.

We recently excavated a clay pipe with the name “COLLEEN BAWN” stamped on the stem. The mark was one I had never seen before, and the pipe was incomplete meaning I did not know if there were any other markings on the bowl. I began my research on the pipe by sharing it in the Society for Clay Pipe Research group, which was my first introduction to the story of Colleen Bawn. As an avid true crime podcast listener, I was rather excited (if that is not too morbid to admit) that the pipe we found could have a connection to a 200-year-old true crime case.

The pipe stem in question. The COLLEEN BAWN marks, located on either side of the stem, are shown below the pipe. Image: C. Watson.

Let us travel back to Autumn 1819, to Kilrush, Ireland, where the remains of Ellen Hanley had just washed ashore. Only 15 years old, Ellen Hanley was well known for being both beautiful and kind, and was given the moniker Colleen Bawn. The name comes from the Irish cailín bán, meaning white girl or pure/innocent girl. Ellen was raised by her uncle, a farmer in County Limerick, after her mother died when she was young.

In the months prior to her murder, Ellen became acquainted with John Scanlan. John, in his early 20s, was a member of the local minor aristocracy, a former Royal Marine, and a heavy gambler. John began to visit Ellen in secret, eventually persuading her to marry him. The two eloped in early July 1819, marrying in secret as John feared his family would not approve of the marriage. The marriage was short and unhappy. A young protestant clergyman met Ellen on a passenger boat, and she confided in him that she regretted leaving her uncle’s farm and that her new husband had spent her dowry on alcohol and gambling. John Scanlan also regretted the marriage, quickly tiring of his new bride and the secrecy of the marriage. He enlisted the help of his servant, Stephen Sullivan, and together they planned her murder.

On July 14th Scanlan and Sullivan took Ellen for a trip in Scanlan’s boat. In the middle of the river Sullivan shot Ellen with a musket. He then stripped her of her clothes, weighed down her body by tying it to rocks, and threw her into the river. Ellen’s disappearance was noticed several weeks later when Maura Sullivan, Stephen Sullivan’s sister, was seen wearing Ellen’s clothes. Six weeks after the murder Ellen’s body washed up at Moneypoint. While the body was too decomposed to identify, the rope tying the body to the rocks was identified as having been lent to John Scanlan. Scanlan and Sullivan quickly disappeared, and police soon determined that the body was the missing Ellen, and that Scanlan and Sullivan were the murderers. Scanlan was found hiding at his parent’s property and was put to trial in March 1820. Despite being defended by the famous lawyer, Daniel O’Connell, he was found guilty and sentenced to death. Scanlan hung on March 16th 1820, with Sullivan caught, tried and hung shortly after.

A memorial to Ellen Hanley is located at the graveyard in Killimer. Image: Irish Waterways History.

Despite being a true story, the fate of Ellen Hanley has all the makings of an excellent narrative: a secret romance, an innocent girl who had a tragic fate, and an evil villain who was punished for his crime. That may be what made the play, The Colleen Bawn, which was based on the murder, so popular in New Zealand and around the world. Newspaper advertisements show that the play was performed regularly in Christchurch from 1864 into the early 20th century.

An 1864 advertisement for the Colleen Bawn play being performed in Christchurch. Image: Press 27/04/1864: 1.

So, what is a name referencing a murdered Irish girl doing on a clay pipe in 1890s Lyttelton? To understand this, it is first important to understand that clay pipes had uses other than just as a vessel for smoking. The clay pipe has its origins in the 16th century, following the introduction of tobacco from the Americas. As tobacco decreased in price, its popularity increased and along with it the number of pipe manufacturers. Pipes were mass manufactured using moulds, meaning the bowls could be easily decorated in elaborate styles and the stems could be stamped with marks (I highly recommend watching this video to see a demonstration of how pipes were made). As a result, decoration and marks on pipes could be used as advertisements, symbols of political events/movements, groups, or current events, as well as just decoration for its own sake.

One of the most common examples of a clay pipe with multiple uses that we find in Christchurch are Heywood pipes. Joseph Heywood ran a business as a commission agent, among other things, from 1851 in Lyttelton. Heywood commissioned clay pipes bearing his name from English pipe manufacturer Charles Crop and we’ve found them on multiple sites in Christchurch dating from the 1860s to the 1880s. Heywood appears to have used the pipes to advertise his business (the 19th century equivalent of businesses buying pens that have their name on them) and was not the only company in Christchurch to do so. We’ve also found pipes from the businesses Trent Brothers and Twentyman and Cousin (see this blog specifically on advertising pipes for more detail). Image: C. Watson.

Keeping with the Irish theme, this pipe is an Inniskilling pipe. It depicts Derry castle with a border of clover leaves and a crown above it. Below the castle is a banner with THE INNISKILLING stamped on it and beneath this a sphynx with a second banner reading EGYPT. The Inniskilling refers to an Irish regiment of the British army that began as a local militia raised in 1689 to fight against James II. The regiment became part of the British army and was sent to several battles both in Britain and overseas. Inniskilling pipes were made by several pipe manufacturers between approximately 1880 and 1920. In the case of this one, the pipe is commemorating the Inniskilling’s time in Egypt, and can be seen as an example of contemporary political events being used as pipe decoration. Image: C. Watson.

Our Colleen Bawn pipe may function as both an advertisement and a kind of pop culture reference for the time. When I began researching the pipe, I wanted to know what the phrase ‘Colleen Bawn’ would mean to a person living in 19th century New Zealand. Would they instantly recognise it as a reference to the murdered Ellen? Or could it be a reference to something else. The easiest way to find this out was by using Papers Past, an online database containing thousands of New Zealand newspapers. Searching the name ‘Colleen Bawn’ resulted in 9,912 hits, indicating that even if I had never heard the phrase Colleen Bawn, people in the 19th century were familiar with it. The earliest reference was to a ‘Colleen Bawn’ clothing item, which was a type of cloak worn by Irish farm girls. From the limited information I’ve been able to find so far, I think the cloak was probably red, similar to a Little Red Riding Hood cloak, and that the name is a reference to the Colleen Bawn play, although I haven’t been able to find anything that specifically proved that. Colleen Bawn cloaks only appeared in 1860s-1870s advertisements, indicating either they dropped out of fashion or the style was no longer referred to as a Colleen Bawn.

The earliest newspaper reference I could find to ‘Colleen Bawn’. Image: Press 9/11/1861: 7.

Other newspaper advertisements referred to a ship called the Colleen Bawn that was operating in New Zealand in the 1860s and 1870s. But aside from that, the vast majority of newspaper references were to the Colleen Bawn play.

Dion Boucicault, author of the play, even visited New Zealand in the 1880s doing a tour of the play in which he played one of the main characters. Image: Lyttelton Times 10/11/1885: 1.

Given our pipe was found in an 1890s context (by which time almost all newspaper references were in relation to the play), and that clay pipes generally only had a short use-life, it seems very likely that our pipe is referencing the Colleen Bawn play. It’s not clear if the pipes were ordered to advertise the play (similar to the Heywood pipes), or if they were a current event reference (like the Inniskilling pipe, but with more of a pop culture angle). It could be that they were the 19th century equivalent of going to a Taylor Swift concert and coming home with a Taylor Swift t-shirt – an object to advertise that you went to the play and remember the experience. Regardless of why the pipe was made, it tells an amazing story and it is interesting to view the clay pipe as both an artefact of late-19th century pop culture in New Zealand, and a reference to a young girl’s tragic fate.

Clara Watson

Further Reading and Information

There are many stories online about the murder of Ellen Hanley. These accounts are all broadly similar, with a few variations to the story. I’ve based mine on accounts from Irish Waterways HistoryIrishCentral, The Irish Times and Clare County Library.

-If you’re interested in reading Gerald Griffin’s book, The Collegians, that was based on the murder, then it is available online on Google Books.

-If you’re interested in reading the play, then the script is available on Project Gutenberg.

-There was also a 1911 silent film based on the play. This is available online on YouTube.

At the time of writing this blog, I haven’t been able to find another example of a Colleen Bawn clay pipe. If there is anyone out there who has one or has seen one then please get in touch, I’d love to hear from you.

 

O flower of Scotland, when will we see your like again? Well, maybe in Christchurch!

Christchurch is rightly or wrongly traditionally thought of as an English city, but at every turn we can see a glimpse of England’s arch enemy…the Scots. While they may now technically be at peace, they do still meet annually on the battlefield (ok, pitch) in a fight to the death (ok, 80 minutes of rugby) to claim the Calcutta Cup. It’s very serious business. This national identity notion that we all subscribe to is a funny thing. The majority of us are extremely proud to be the nationality that we are. I, for example, am very proud to be Scottish and even though we don’t have the strongest rugby team, I will always fiercely support them. And quite frankly, who wouldn’t be proud to be from a country whose national animal is unicorn. Yes, that’s right, a mythical beast. In our defence unicorns were thought to be real in Western countries until the early 1800s.

In my (almost) two years so far in New Zealand one of the main things I’ve picked up on is the way people are so passionately proud of being Kiwi, but also of the different cultures that have combined to make New Zealand what it is today. We don’t have to search too in depth into Christchurch’s history before we see a glimpse of that Scottish influence. Riccarton? Named after the parish that the Deans brothers came from in Ayrshire, Scotland. The River Avon? Named after their grandfather’s stream on his farm back in Scotland. That’s two very distinctive features of Christchurch, that the majority of us will think about or talk about on a daily basis, with origins half the world away. The Deans brothers were among the first to settle in Christchurch after being less than impressed with their assigned land in Wellington and Nelson. Having moved to New Zealand by myself in the modern day and age where I can FaceTime my family or hop on a flight home fairly regularly, I have the upmost respect for the earliest of settlers who travelled via boat and more often than not would not see their family again. It is however almost a bit of a mistake that the Deans ended up here in what was to become Christchurch, but a happy one at that. It is at Riccarton Bush that would be the site of their first farm and where the suburb of Riccarton would get its name. In the image below we can see some of the earliest buildings of Christchurch, built by the brothers. A far cry from the Riccarton we know today.

The stackyard at Riccarton c. 1860 showing a barn (left), the ploughman’s cottage (centre), and Deans Cottage (right). Image: Orwin 2015: 115.

Another set of Scottish brothers who made a huge contribution to Christchurch are Peter and David Duncan, who founded their business P & D Duncan Ltd in Christchurch. You might recognise the name as the business only ceased  operations in 1986, or because one of their 20th century buildings branded with “P & D DUNCAN LTD” can still be seen on St Asaph Street ( pictured just below). The pair contributed to the development of New Zealand agriculture through their foundries which, as previously mentioned, operated up until the late 20th century (Kete Christchurch, 2018).

Still in use today! Although not as a foundry as the Duncan brothers had originally intended. Image: Kete Christchurch.

The earliest immigrants were quite obviously bringing their skills to Christchurch and establishing businesses using said skills in order to better themselves. It is, therefore, a little surprising that when the Christchurch Drainage Board began their mammoth task of building a sewer system to support the growing population in 1878, they opted to import the sewer pipes all the way from Scotland rather than sourcing them locally. The earthenware pipes, branded with “J BINNIE / GARTCOSH”, were shipped directly from Glasgow (Press 14/12/1878: 2, Star 26/8/1879: 3). Understandably this annoyed the ratepayers somewhat –  if there were local businesses who could supply the goods, why did they need to fork out to get the pipes shipped from quite literally half the world away? (Star 29/5/1880:3). Predictably, not all the pipes made it to New Zealand in one piece.

Above: The J. Binnie / Gartcosh makers mark. Below: Not all of the pipes appear to have made it in one piece, take note of that mighty crack. Image: Hamish Williams

When thinking about the English we often think about tea as their national drink, but what about the Scots? Whisky, quite naturally. I was introduced to it at a young age in an attempt to get me to stop crying while I was teething…and I’ve been hooked ever since! Just kidding, following my dabble as a toddler, I waited until 18 to enjoy this Scottish tradition. We find whisky bottles, along with other types of alcohol bottles, fairly regularly in Christchurch (not that I’m suggesting anything about Cantabrian drinking habits!). This whisky bottle found in Victoria Square had an embossing on the base reading “JOHN STEWART & Co / KIRKLISTON”, which immediately indicates that the bottle originally contained Scottish Whisky made in the Kirkliston distillery in West Lothian, Scotland. The Kirkliston distillery was first established in 1795 and went through several owners before Stewart and Co. took over in 1855, installing a Coffey still and converting it to a primarily grain-based distillery. In 1877, John Stewart and Co. were one of the six Scottish whisky distillers to form the Distiller’s Company Ltd., who continued in business well into the 20th century. We can even easily assign the dates 1855 until 1877 for production of this particular bottle (Townsend 2015:125-127).

John Stewart and Co. whisky bottle, dating back to the early days of Christchurch. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu

The Scottish countryside was even celebrated through romantic imagery on ceramics. A pattern aptly named ‘Scotch Scenery’ depicts a Scottish highland shepherd and shepherdess resting at the foot of a tree. The highland landscape, with stone cliffs, waterfalls, and trees, is visible behind the couple (Transferware Collector’s Club 2005-2018). Ceramics patterns are often used to depict (often quite idealised) images of people, places and activities for mass consumption. Whoever owned this vessel may have been a proud Scot themselves, dreaming of home, or just someone with very good taste.

A Scottish lass and laddie reclining in the highland landscape – a lovely little print on a ceramic found in central Christchurch. Image: J. Garland.

And to end my ramblings on Scotland in Christchurch I can’t think of a better artefact. As I’ve said in a previous post, one of my favourite things to find on site is clay pipes. Often they’re stamped with “EDINBURGH” or “GLASGOW” with the makers name as well (I once even found one embossed with “DAVIDSON / GLASGOW” – us Davidsons get everywhere). But these two examples are a little bit special. They feature our national symbol, the thistle! While the English have the rose and Kiwis have the fern, we have a spikey (yet beautiful) thistle. The patriotic motifs became increasingly popular during the 19th century as manufacturers began to cater for “ethnic and national sentiments” (Bradley 2000: 112). Similar to the way I wear my Scotland rugby shirt (emblazoned with the thistle) with pride today, some of the earliest settlers may have smoked their thistle clad pipe with a similar sort of feeling. Now there’s a nice thought.

Clay smoking pipes decorated with the thistle motif found in Christchurch city centre. Image: J. Garland.

A huge thank you to my colleagues at UOA for sharing their Scottish stories and finds of Christchurch with me.

Kathy Davidson

References

Bradley, C., 2000. Smoking Pipes for the Archaeologist. In Karklins, K. (Ed.) Studies in Material Culture Research, p. 104-133. Society for Historical Archaeology, Pennsylvania.

Kete Christchurch, 2018. P & D Duncan Ltd. [online] Available at: http://ketechristchurch.peoplesnetworknz.info/site/topics/show/1950-p-and-d-duncan-ltd#.Wyhva6l9gnU [Accessed 19 June 2018].

Orwin, J., 2015, Riccarton and the Deans Family: History and Heritage. David Bateman: Auckland.

Press. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/ [Accessed June 2018].

Christchurch City Libraries, 2018. Riccarton Bush (Pūtaringamotu), Riccarton House, and Deans Cottage. [online] https://my.christchurchcitylibraries.com/riccarton-bush/ [Accessed 19 June 2018].

Star. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/ [Accessed June 2018].

Townsend, B., 2015. Scotch Missed: The Original Guide to the Lost Distilleries of Scotland. Neil Wilson Publishing Ltd., Britain.

Transferware Collector’s Club, 2005-2018. Scotch Scenery [online] Available at: http://www.transcollectorsclub.org/ [Accessed June 2018].

Uncovering Victoria Square

In 1848, when the City of Christchurch was nothing but a design concept of the Canterbury Association back in London the idea of a ‘little slice of England’ (but half the world away) was born (Rice 2014, 9). Exactly how well this vision was realised on the ground is debatable, but to many, the city continues to possess an English identity, despite going on to be home to immigrants from across the globe (Cookson 2000, 13). The Association was formed with the purpose of creating a colony here in the Canterbury Region and had the somewhat romantic notion of building an Anglican community with a handpicked selection of English society (Rice 2014, 9). To some extent this was arguably achieved by the Association’s Chief Surveyor, Captain Joseph Thomas. A city constructed around a cathedral and college, a characteristic that seems very English to any Brit like myself, was created. To this very day, despite its recent changes, I can confirm that Christchurch is a place where any Brit can come and feel oddly at home even though they’re in a city quite literally the farthest from home they could possibly be. An enduring feat that Thomas would surely be proud of.

The task of surveying the town sites of Lyttleton, Sumner, and Christchurch was undertaken by Anglo-Irish lawyer Edward Jollie. It is in 1850 that we first see a mention of Victoria Square, or Market Place as it was originally named, inked on Jollie’s Black Map of Christchurch. Hailing from a British market town myself it’s easy to see why the square was incorporated into city plans. Such squares are a common feature in towns and cities across the UK and it’s understandable why Market Place became an important attribute of this new city. Not only would it immediately remind new immigrants and settlers of home, it would also come to benefit the city’s residents in a practical sense; here people would be able to sell their produce to one another and build the foundations of new businesses. From the city’s founding to present day the area has remained a public space and, although it has undergone a number of transformations, it has provided the people of Christchurch and visitors alike with a civic space for trade, socialising, and entertainment.

In spite of the area being set aside by the Association as a commercial area it wasn’t until 1853 that the proposed markets were actually held, when the rules and regulations were finally decided upon. As soon as the markets officially started however, Market Place began to flourish and quickly became a hub of activity for Cantabrians. During its history the square has been used for a range of activities and purposes. From animal pound to racehorse breeding and, at one time, a watering hole for visiting circus elephants! Such use of the area may have deviated from the traditional use for a market square but nonetheless provides an entertaining and unique history. The square was also utilised in a more normal manner:  butchers, fishmongers, greengrocers, drapers, shoemakers and importers, wool and grain dealers, and builders all operated out of and around the outskirts of Market Place at some point (Rice 2014). The square was also home to immigration barracks, the police station, the first post office, and Market Hall at one point. Although hard to imagine now, the square was once a densely built up area filled with wooden structures.

The 1850s-1870s could safely be considered the ‘boom’ era in the commercial use of Market Place. Empty town sections were being snapped up following the 1870s wheat boom and it was then that all of the construction within the square took place as a result of an influx of civic and commercial activity (Rice 2014, 87). The initial wooden buildings built around the outskirts of the square were replaced by two-three storey buildings in brick, stone, stucco and slate by the late 1870s, a reflection of Christchurch’s rapid growth.

Elephants in the Avon! A rather bizarre sight when a visiting circus decided to let the elephants cool down in 1934. Press (17/01/1934: 16)

By the mid-1880s this commercial boom had almost run its course. Although shops and hotels remained around the outskirts of the square, the times were changing in Christchurch, with the growth of other commercial areas in the city. However, despite the commercial period of the square coming to an end, the 1880s would see the beginning of a new venture for Market Place with the installation of the steam and horse tram from 1880. The line bisected the square diagonally along Whatley Road (later Victoria Street) and was part of the Papanui Line. This line was the most heavily used and as a result would have kept the square busy, even when trade was declining. The tram would go on to be turned into an electric line and ran from 1905 until its closure in 1954. Victoria Street continued to be used through the square following the closure of the tram until 1988 when the entire square was pedestrianised (Rice 1987, 117).

A built up Market Place in 1862 looking north east. Image: CCL. File reference: CCL PhotoCD 16, IMG0003.

During this transition from a commercial to public space the recognisable features of the present day Victoria Square, such as the statues of Queen Victoria and Captain Cook as well as the recently refurbished Bowker Fountain, were installed. It was during this transformation at the turn of the 20th century, following the death of Queen Victoria, that Market Place was officially renamed Victoria Square.

The Papanui line ran through Victoria Square until it was decommissioned in the 1950s. Image: Alexander, 1993.

Victoria Square would go on to be redeveloped in the 1980s and, most recently, in 2017/2018 as part of the rebuild programme following the Canterbury earthquakes. During the most recent redevelopment archaeologists were able to gain new insights into the early days of the square, and broader life within Christchurch. Excavations revealed structural remains of the early infrastructure of Market Place and several rubbish pits, finding over 1100 artefact fragments. Many of these fragments would go on to help piece us together the early history of the square.

The assemblage recovered from Victoria Square consisted of a variety of artefacts including ceramic and glass, but, rather surprisingly, was predominantly made up of footwear. The sheer volume of shoes found during the recent works (117 shoes coming from one rubbish alone) was confusing for a time. The types of shoes found within the square varied greatly and would have belonged to men, women, and children. Following a little investigation it appeared that perhaps it wasn’t so odd that so many boots were being found: Yorkshire House at the Market Square was in fact having a “Great Clearing Sale. We know from newspaper advertisements that John Caygill was operating out of Market Place as an importer and manufacturer of footwear from 1864 (Lyttelton Time 16/08/1864: 1). Caygill later moved his premises to High Street in 1876 where he was advertised as selling ladies and children’s footwear (Lyttleton Times 20/05/1876). It is quite possible that a number of our shoes weren’t travelling very far before finding themselves in ground and may have been part of a mass disposal before moving premises, which would explain the quantity of shoes found.

John Caygill was advertising his shoe sale at Market Place and could very well be one of the sources of all our buried shoes. Star (8/11/1869: 2).

Some examples of the ankle boots recovered from Victoria Square. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

Within this collection of footwear a number of rubber shoes were identified with maker’s marks. Because of these marks it was then possible to trace some of the companies and subsequently the origins of the shoes. One example of this is the North British Rubber Company, which originates from Edinburgh. Their shoes and boots were in production from 1856 until 1956 and they largely exported their products to other countries for a range of rubber needs and purposes including mechanical, engineering and agricultural uses (French 2006). Like fitting a puzzle together, it was possible to trace the origins of these small fragments of rubber to Scotland, 18,591km away. It’s quite possible that John Caygill was importing these very boots to sell in his store at the Market Place.

Footwear made by the North British Rubber Co. from Edinburgh. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

A personal favourite find with origins in Scotland, like myself, is the clay pipe. While pipe fragments aren’t an unusual find on sites in Christchurch they’re always welcome, as they’re usually embossed with the company’s name and place of creation. It’s therefore possible to know a considerable amount about the object immediately after excavation, something that’s not always the case. In this case we can see that this clay pipe came from Edinburgh and was made by ‘THO.WHITE & CO’ translating into Thomas White & Co. who produced pipes from 1823 to 1876 (Bradley 2000: 117). As ‘home’ for me is just over an hour from Edinburgh I do get rather attached to my Scottish finds. Perhaps this is because I know that they’ve made a similar journey to myself to get here (although I’m guessing my air travel would have been a lot more comfortable than their sea voyage).

Another find from Scotland! The Thomas White and Co. smoking pipe. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

Another interesting find was two Bell and Black matchboxes. Richard Bell originally began a match business in London in the 1830s and was later joined by Black (Anson 1983). Their matchboxes are found across sites in both New Zealand and Australia dating to the mid-late 19th century. What is particularly nice about these matchboxes, however, is that they later began to be produced in Wellington when a factory was opened in 1895. Their success story brought them on a journey from England to New Zealand, where the matches are produced to this day.

Two examples of Bell and Black matchboxes were found during recent excavations. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

One of the few examples of New Zealand made artefacts that were recovered during recent works is the J. M. & Co. bottle, which was found complete (a small victory for any archaeologist). The initials embossed refer to Joseph Milsom and his aerated water company. Several branches of the he Milsom family set up factories in Lyttelton and Christchurch during the 19th century, and according to the Wises Directory (1872-1873) Joseph Milsom and Co. was established in 1860.

The (whole!) Joseph Milsom aerated water bottle. Image: M. Lillo Bernabeu.

All dateable artefacts recovered from the Victoria Square excavation can quite easily be associated with the early commercial ‘boom’ period of the Market Place (1850s-1870s). The majority of these findings also supported what we know about the strong export markets from England and Scotland, which supplied the colonies of Australia and New Zealand. In fact, only a few of the artefacts with maker’s marks recovered from the square were found to be made in New Zealand. While this is not unusual for the period it does provide us with an insight into what those early years must have been like for immigrants; everything they had once taken for granted as being easily accessible now had to be shipped from the other side of the world and this perhaps goes some way to putting into perspective how challenging life must have been. The challenges and risks businesses would have to take, with no guarantee of success, in order to import goods from Europe is an overwhelming thought.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, there has been and still is a lot going on in and around Victoria Square, which has always been a focal point of Christchurch. It’s somewhere that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed working over the past year as it’s been given a new lease of life and putting all the puzzle pieces together to create a picture of early commercial Christchurch has been extremely rewarding. Although its role has changed over time the square has served the public of Christchurch since the city’s foundation. It is a place that has always been dear to people’s hearts and while we’ve been able to uncover a little of the past during the recent renovations, the square will continue in its role as a public space for future residents, as intended by Thomas and Jollie so long ago.

Kathy Davidson

References

Alexander, M., 1993. Tram to the Terminus: the Christchurch Tramway Board and its electric tramways 1921-54. Christchurch N.Z: A&M and Tramway Historical Society.

Anson, D., 1983. Typology and Seriation of Wax Vesta Tin Matchboxes from Central Otago: A New Method of Dating Historic Sites in New Zealand. [online] Available at http://nzarchaeology.org/cms/NZJA/Vol%205%201983/NZJA5.115-138Anson.pdf [Accessed November 2017]

Bradley, C., 2000. Smoking Pipes for the Archaeologist. In Karklins, K. (Ed.) Studies in Material Culture Research, p. 104-133. Society for Historical Archaeology, Pennsylvania.

Cookson, J., 2000, ‘Pilgrims’ Progress – Image, Identity and Myth in Christchurch in Southern Capital Christchurch Towards a City Biography 1850-2000, Canterbury University Press: Christchurch NZ.

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

Grace’s Guide, 2018. The North British Rubber Company. [online] Available at: https://www.gracesguide.co.uk/North_British_Rubber_Co [Accessed April 2018].

Rice, G., 2014, Victoria Square: Cradle of Christchurch. Canterbury University Press: Christchurch NZ.

Tasker, J., 1993. NZ Matches and Matchboxes. Ohinemuri Regional History Journal, Vol. 37. [online] Available at http://www.ohinemuri.org.nz/journals/65-journal-37-september-1993/1370-nz-matches-and-matchboxes [Accessed November 2017].

 

Canterbury Corner

Down on the corner of a Lyttelton street, there was a butcher, a courier and a large family to meet… Or at least, one could have met them about 150 odd years ago when three early settler families in Lyttelton combined their lives and livelihoods for three generations through marriage links.

Last year, Angel Trendafilov (one of our archaeologists), was called out to a house site in Lyttelton, where a large deposit of 19th century domestic refuse was found during the excavation for new foundation piles. This rubbish pit was found beneath a layer of introduced soil that contained many artefacts. Several matching artefact fragments were found in the introduced layer and the rubbish pit, telling us that that the soil from the upper layer had probably once been a part of the rubbish pit. At some point, the top of the pit must have been disturbed and some of its contents redeposited during ground levelling works at the site.

A photo of the house site showing the pile holes. Image: A. Trendafilov.

Angel noticed that this introduced upper soil layer was found above a drainpipe that had been manufactured by the Christchurch Brick Company (CBC). This company started as a merger between Wigram Brothers and T. N. Horsley and Co. in 1903 and the lack of disturbance observed in the relevelling layer suggest that the pipes had been laid before the site was relevelled. This suggests that the relevelling is likely to have occurred sometime after 1903, while the large rubbish pit beneath this layer must have been deposited sometime prior to this.

Drainpipe pipe with maker’s mark. Image: A. Trendafilov.

The artefacts found in this rubbish pit and ground relevelling fill layer were typical 19th century domestic types. That is to say, they were ceramic tea wares, table wares and beverage and food containers, household artefacts like chamber pots, jugs, candle holders, pharmaceutical items, and personal items like clay pipes and leather shoes. Food remains were also present in the forms of shells and bones, and from these remains it’s apparent that the people who threw them out were fans of oysters, cockles, and mutton. Only a small amount of the mutton bones had evidence of butchery, so it’s possible that they represented several sheep that were not butchered for meat. Alternatively, it’s probably more likely that the bones were used to make soups, stocks or stews.

Some of the cool clay pipes found at the site. Row A: clay pipe with “T D” and “28” mark B: Davidson, T., and Co. clay pipe (manufactured 1861 and 1910). C: clay pipe with rope decoration, and clay pipe with wheat decoration. Image: C. Dickson.

The manufacturing techniques used on these artefacts and the maker’s marks that were present suggested that this rubbish pit could not have been deposited before the 1870s. We know from researching the history of the site that people had lived on this residential section from at least 1864, but the story of the families who lived in the area proved to be a knotty tale. So allow me to unravel it for you…

If we trace back the history of land subdivisions and ownership, we can see that a large section of this town block was first purchased by David Patton Dimond in 1855. Dimond had also owned the adjoining town section (fronting Winchester Street), since 1851 and would eventually raise a family and run a business from here (LINZ, 1850: 71-72). This family consisted of David and his wife Elwina Scott, whom he married in 1853, and the four children that they had during the 1850s (Rootsweb 2006). David worked as carter/carrier, and during the 1860s he ran a courier business in partnership with his brother, Sydney Dimond, from the Winchester Street property – which they imaginatively called “Dimond Brothers” (Lyttelton Times 22/7/1854: 8). The Dimond Brothers partnership dissolved in 1866, but David continued the business himself, with it later becoming known as “Dimond and Son” when his son David George Dimond, joined the business (some more creative names here; Lyttelton Times 6/1/1866: 4; H. Wise & Co., 1883-1884: 147).

The notice of dissolution (Lyttelton Times 6/1/1866: 4).

In 1858, Dimond subdivided and sold a part of his section to George Scott (senior), and Moses Cryer (LINZ 1850: 71). This section comprised most of the northern half of the town section (where our property is now located), leaving a narrow area to the west that may have been used as an access road.

Detail from the Lyttelton Deeds Index Register showing the 1858 subdivision (in green), of the town section. Image: LINZ 1850: 543.

Moses Cryer was the earliest butcher in Lyttelton, and he was involved with the planning of the first road over the Port Hills (Press 12/9/1893: 5; New Zealand Herald 7/1/1935: 10). He didn’t keep his share of the property for long but sold his interest to George Scott (or perhaps another member or the Scott clan), in 1859 (LINZ 1850: 554). To make matters a little more interesting, George Scott’s daughter was the aforementioned Elwina Scott, making him David Dimond’s father-in-law. George’s sons, Samuel Francis Scott and George Francis Scott, also had a fraternal business in Lyttelton (this one was named Messrs G. F. and S. F. Scott), and together they ran the Mitre Hotel and the Robin Hood Inn (finally a great name), located on Norwich Quay, until 1857 (Lyttelton Times 11/3/1857: 12).

Another one bites the dust (Lyttelton Times 16/7/1857: 6).

This tangled web of small-town marriage wove further in 1855, when Samuel Francis Scott married Anne Cryer (Moses Cryer’s daughter; Lyttelton Times 28/3/1855: 3). We could tell by a newspaper birth announcement and the electoral rolls that Samuel and Anne lived at the Canterbury Street address from at least 1864, and they were likely to have stayed there until they moved their family to Southbridge in 1867 (Lyttelton Times 6/9/1864: 4; H. Wise & Co. 1878-1879: 155). This suggests that the two fathers, Moses Cryer and George Scott, may have purchased the section to build a home for their children to start a family in, right next door to Samuel’s sister Elwina. Isn’t that nice! What’s also nice is that this suggests the strong possibility that the archaeological material found on this site is associated with the Samuel Scott/Anne Cryer family’s occupation of the section between c. 1864 and 1876.

But this isn’t our only option – confidently attributing archaeological finds on densely populated town sections is rarely so simple. Following Samuel Scott’s departure to Southbridge in 1876, Scott sold the property back to (his now relative) David Dimond. David then mortgaged his large property several times to the Lyttelton Permanent Building Society, and with the funding this raised, he probably built several structures on it (LINZ 1850: 543). David also advertised a six-roomed property to let on Canterbury Street, but it is not known if any tenants moved in.

A lonely home (Star 12/10/1876: 2).

In 1900, David subdivided his property again, and by this time, there were at least three large dwellings present in the area (LINZ, 1900). However, no structures were present in the section where our artefacts were found, suggesting that the dwelling occupied by the Scott/Cryer family in the 1860s and 1870s had been demolished by 1900. Thomas Martin Lewington (ship joiner and inventor of an automatic sheep carcass counter), had leased the neighbouring back section from at least 1896 and in 1901, he purchased it (as well as the section containing our archaeological site; Evening Star 17/2/1891: 3; LINZ, 1901; H. Wise & Co., n.d. :19; Press 15/3/1940: 10).

Plan showing buildings present in the area during 1900. The vacant section fronting Canterbury Street on the plan was the location of the archaeological site. The building visible in the northwest of the plan is probably the Lewington family home. Image: LINZ, 1900.

As the adjacent Canterbury Street section was probably vacant during the later decades of the 19th century, it may have acted as a convenient place where the neighbouring Lewingtons or the Dimond families could have disposed of their household trash before a new house was built on the section. On-site domestic rubbish deposition like this was common in Canterbury during the 19th century, and archaeological evidence from other local domestic sites suggest that citizens often buried or burnt their own rubbish on-site (Wilson 2005). We’ve seen examples of refuse dumping at neighbouring vacant sections like this before on Canterbury archaeological sites, so without the presence of any artefacts that could be specifically attributed to any of the families, it’s difficult to tell who this rubbish belonged to.

Map showing all the buildings present in the area by 1910. The building that was present at the location our archaeological site (outlined in red), is likely that to be the same building that was standing until its post-earthquake demolition. The presence of the extant house in 1910 indicates that the rubbish pit, pipe laying and the relevelling of the site all occurred before this date. Image: Williams 1910.

Despite the uncertainties, this site offered us a fascinating history of some of the earliest settlers of Lyttelton, and it proved to be a great example of close family ties, family enterprise, not to mention, confusingly repeated family names.

Chelsea Dickson

References

Wise & Co., n.d. Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directories.

LINZ, 1850. Canterbury Land District Deeds Index – Lyttelton B, Canterbury. Archives New Zealand, Christchurch office.

LINZ, 1900. DP 1623, Canterbury. Landonline.

Williams, J.R., 1910. Plan of Lyttelton Sewerage.

Wilson, J. et. al. 2005. Contextual Historical Overview for Christchurch City. Christchurch City Council. Available  at: https://www.ccc.govt.nz/assets/Documents/Culture-Community/Heritage/ChristchurchCityContextualHistoryOverviewTheme11-docs.pdf  [Accessed May 2016).