A humble home

Posted on 21 June 2013 by Jessie Garland

Today’s post presents the story of William Bowen, a prominent Christchurch builder, as told by his residence at 441 Madras Street. Archaeologists recorded this building using building archaeology techniques before and during its post-earthquake demolition. 441 Madras Street was initially numbered 9 and then 13 Madras Street before the Christchurch’s street addresses were reorganised in 1911.

William and Ellen Bowen emigrated from Birmingham in 1873 and settled in Christchurch (Macdonald Dictionary of Canterbury Biography B604). William plied his trade as a carpenter in the city over the next decade. In 1891 William and Ellen purchased an empty section on the St Albans extension of Madras Street (LINZ 1891). Here William constructed the house that became the Bowen family home.

The house that William Bowen built at 441 Madras Street.

Over the next 18 years William developed a very successful construction business in Christchurch, becoming one of the city’s foremost builders. As well as his St Albans residence, William owned large premises on Kilmore Street in the central city from which he operated his construction business (Press 2/3/1910). William worked on many major building projects in Christchurch. Some of these became well-known buildings of 19th century Christchurch, such as the Theatre Royal on Gloucester Street (Press 2/1/1907) and Warners Hotel in Cathedral Square (Press 12/7/1900). William was also very active in the building industry’s political scene, being the director of the Industrial Building Society (Press 21/5/1897) and president of the Builders and Contractors Association of Canterbury (Press 29/7/1906). He also seems to have enjoyed participating in Christchurch’s social and recreational clubs. William was vice-president of the Christchurch Amateur Rowing Club (Press 3/9/1904) and a member of the Canterbury Automobile club, for which he drove a ‘French car’ in their Easter rally (Press 8/4/1904).

William Bowen’s professional advertisement (Star 1/5/1908).

William also dabbled in property development. The year after they purchased 441 Madras Street William and Ellen Bowen bought the neighbouring property at 443 Madras Street and built a house there before selling it in 1896, presumably for a profit (LINZ 1890). This building was also recorded by archaeologists before it was demolished.

William Bowen died in 1909 (Star 8/10/1909). At the time of his death he owned another house and section at 483 Madras Street and two more undeveloped sections on Madras Street near Canon Street (Press 8/12/1910). The auction of his estate in 1912 provides an insight into his lifestyle through the list of chattels.

Advertisement for the sale of 441 Madras Street (Press 21/9/1912).

In contrast to his thriving professional and social life, the archaeological investigation of his house at 441 Madras Street revealed a surprisingly modest residence. The Bowens purchased 441 Madras Street at a time when the outskirts of Christchurch were rapidly developing their suburban character. William Bowen, with his residential life in St Albans and large business premises in the inner city, was typical of the movement towards separation of work and living space that was becoming increasingly common as the city of Christchurch grew and developed.

The section at 441 Madras Street was originally larger than it is today, with room for stables, a carriage shed and a motor shed (perhaps used to house the French car’ that William drove in the 1904 Automobile Club rally). However, the house itself, with eight rooms, was surprisingly modest for a man of means with a large family. In contrast, John Cracroft Wilson built himself an 11-roomed house in Cashmere for his family of three (in the 1850s). Bowen’s house was a single-storey weatherboard villa typical of those constructed in late 19^th century New Zealand and, like most villas, was formulaic in design. The house was situated on the street front, with a verandah on its front elevation. A central hall ran the length of the house, with rooms opening off to either side.

Floor plan of the house at 441 Madras Street. Image: K. Webb.

No overt indications of conspicuous display were identified in the house. One might have expected a man such as William Bowen to have had a two-storey house, with ornate decorations, such as stained glass and cast iron work, on its exterior. The only stained glass around the front entrance of 441 Madras Street was installed in the 1980s. However, several decorative features were recorded inside. These included a mosaic of tessellated tiles at the foot of the front door, a moulded plaster hallway arch, and several ornate ceiling roses and picture rails. These features are not unusual in late 19^th century Christchurch houses, and are particularly common in houses occupied by the respectable middle-class.

Decorative features in the house at 441 Madrass Street. Clockwise from left: the mosaic of tessellated tiles at the foot of the front door; detail of the moulded hall arch; detail of a picture rail; one of the moulded ceiling roses. Images: K. Watson.

The house had five fireplaces, four of which remained in their original condition. These fireplaces had moulded timber surrounds and were decorated with embossed patterns or colourful painted tiles. One fireplace was of particular interest. Along with decorative tiles, the fireplace had embossed panels emblazoned with the words ‘The Congo’ and the head of a mustachioed man flanked by two lions. This man was identified as Sir Henry Morton Stanley, a Welsh-American journalist and explorer famous for uttering “Dr. Livingstone, I presume” upon discovering the missionary in Tanzania in 1871. Stanley had a long and complicated association with the Congo region, one that has subsequently been approached with criticism (Driver 1991). It is not clear why Stanley’s head was considered appropriate decoration for a suburban fireplace in Christchurch. Perhaps it was created in celebration of his feats of exploration. Or perhaps it was produced by a fireplace manufacturer named for the Congo. At the height of his popularity, Stanley’s image was used to sell “everything from soap to Bovril” (Driver 1991: 134).

Fireplace panel embossed with the head of Sir Henry Morton Stanley. Image: K. Watson.

The historical sources depict William Bowen as an extremely industrious and successful tradesman, active in both professional and social organisations. He was not only employed on major construction projects, but dabbled in property development and was presumably wealthy. The archaeological examination of his residence adds a new dimension to this image. While a comfortable residence, 441 Madras Street was more modest than what could have been expected of a prominent tradesman with a large family. It is possible that the house was built before the height of William’s success, and the family did not feel the need to change it. Alternatively, the residence could be attributed to William’s personal taste, and presumably that of his family, and may have been related to his religious faith.

William Bowen was a member of the Methodist (Wesleyan) church, and prominent in Methodist affairs in Christchurch. Several contemporary newspaper items indicate that both William and Ellen were active members of the St Albans Crescent Road Wesleyan Church (Press 1/5/1897) and that William was president of the Wesleyan Sunday School Union (Press 8/12/1900). The Methodist church emphasised discipline and social responsibility (Shoebridge 2012), and their religious affiliation no doubt influenced the Bowens’ lifestyle, including the house William built for his family on Madras Street.

Rosie Geary Nichol

References

Driver, F., 1991. Henry Morton Stanley and his Critics: Geography, Exploration and Empire. Past and Present 133: 134-166.

LINZ, 1890. Certificate of title, CB144/91. Landonline.

LINZ, 1891. Certificate of title, CB147/38. Landonline.

Press. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast.

Shoebridge, T., 2012. Methodist Church. [online] Available at: http://www.TeAra.govt.nz/en/methodist-church.

Star. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast.

Let me tell you a story…

Posted on 14 June 2013 by Katharine

Historical archaeology has many facets, it includes recording buildings and features, artefact analysis, names and dates, but if you take a moment, collaborate all that data, you have a powerful tool for telling someone’s story. Some call this type of analysis ‘interpretative archaeology’ or ‘storytelling’ and both of these are right in a way. In its most simplest form, it is an attempt tell the story of those ordinary moments lost in time. When an assemblage containing a large number of children’s toys came through our doors we believed we had a topic to blog about. If we could, through the analysis of both the archaeological remains and the historical documents, identify the children who had played with these toys, how interesting would that be, what stories could be told. I’ll be the first to admit it, this proved more difficult than I initially anticipated.

Selection of children’s items from Moorhouse Ave. Image: Gwen Jackson.

These artefacts were part of an assemblage from Moorhouse Avenue, where over 600 artefacts were recovered, many of them domestic in form. Preliminary historical research showed that there was a house on the section in 1877; however, the vague nature of land transaction records and land occupation records mean that we can’t definitively pin down who lived in this house. This was complicated further by a range of other factors: the owner of a section was not always its occupant in 19^th and early 20^th century Christchurch; the next map or plan that shows the area in question wasn’t published until 1915 (LINZ 1915); and, worst of all, the street numbers in central Christchurch changed completely in 1911 – the streets were numbered from a different end, and the odd and even numbers switched sides. One can only describe this as a researcher’s nightmare.

Wise’s Directory (left to right) 1910, 1911 and 1912 – note 1911 changes from odds to evens and from higher to lower numbers.

In spite of these complications, we know that the section was the site of domestic occupation until the mid 1910s (when ownership was taken over by the Tai Tapu Dairy Company), and we have at least two potential candidates: Jason and Maggie Isbester, who may have lived on the site from 1905-1908; and Frederick Hammond, who may have lived on the section from 1908 to at least 1913. But both proved elusive in the historical records, so we had no way to confirm our hypotheses.

Aynsley tea cup. Moorhouse Ave. Image: Jaden Harris.

So in absence of definitive historical records we turn to artefacts: what do the artefacts tell us, what story do they unravel to both the trained and untrained eye? A number of artefacts can be identified as ‘early’ due to their functional nature. The presence of candlesticks, gas lanterns and chamber pots suggest occupation of this house predated the advent of utilities such as sewerage and electricity. Moorhouse Avenue was connected to Christchurch’s sewerage system by 1882 (Wilson 1989) and electricity was available in the early 1900s. These artefacts represent Christchurch prior to the installation of modern services.

Tea pot, Moorhouse Ave. Image: Jaden Harris.

Whoever was living at the site in the late 19th and early 20th century appear to be reasonably affluent and may have been from the middle class. This assumption is based on the composition of the artefact assemblage, with a number of food serving dishes and the large number of children’s toys and other personal items. A number of serving platters or deep square dishes, champagne bottles, vinegar bottles and food vessels suggest the occupants liked to entertain at dinner parties, as was common for the middle and upper classes in the 19^th and early 20^th century. To find such a concentration of children’s toys in a single archaeological deposit is rare, as children are often surprisingly invisible in the archaeological record. Items of personal hygiene included everything from a toothbrush and accompanying toothpaste jar but also numerous perfume and cosmetic jars.

Dinner plate, Moorhouse Ave. Image: Gwen Jackson.

Entertaining ad for Kruschen. The Evening Post 16/01/1928: 19

Ad for Kruschen Salts (Evening Post 16/01/1928: 19).

A variety of pharmaceuticals were found in the deposit, which suggests a reliance on selfmedication for ailments – this is a common feature in historic New Zealand sites and as common as finding a Panadol box in your rubbish. Some of those bottles found included Jeyes Fluid, which acted as a disinfectant and antiseptic, Wood’s Great Peppermint Cure for coughs and colds and one called Kruschen salts which, well, let’s say it dealt with the more unpleasant side of the digestive tract.

Bottle with the label of J. Berry, a Christchurch chemist. Image: Jaden Harris.

A number of paint supplies were also collected from the site, with one paint dish identified to Reeves and Son Ltd, a firm which started operation in 1891 (Grace’s Guide 2007). It is assumed that the paint brushes found in the site were used at the same time as the paint dish, due to their functional association.

Ad for Reeves and Son Ltd. Grace's Guide: 1924

1924 ad for Reeves and Son Ltd (Grace’s Guide 2007).

So what does it all mean really? I did say we tend to use numbers, dates and names. But we also tell stories. Perhaps what we have is a story of a girl in the late 1890s who grew up in a somewhat affluent Christchurch home. As a daily chore she would exit the rear of her house and empty the chamber pots and as payment for her daily chores her father, the painter, rewarded her with toys (given New Zealand’s “servant problem”, there was probably no servant). As she sits with her figurine dolls and her tea set, her parents entertain with food served in large Willow patterned and Wild Rose vessels with candles glimmering in the night light. The cold air means the Wood’s Great Peppermint Cure will be on hand tomorrow. Actually, her mother’s bad cooking probably means Kruschen will be used as well. As the wine pours, the little 19th century girls heads to bed, she brushes her teeth and says her prayers, for tomorrow is another day of more chamber pots and the promise of new toys.

This is only one interpretation, and yes, it is a story but it’s that one moment lost in time given life for a brief moment. Perhaps I could encourage you to offer us your interpretation?

Kimberley Bone

References

Evening Post. [online] Available at http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast

Grace’s Guide, 2007. Reeves and Sons. [online] Available at: http://www.gracesguide.co.uk/Reeves_and_Sons [Accessed on 14th June 2013].

LINZ, 1915. DP 4334, Canterbury. Landonline.

National Portrait Gallery, 2013. British Artists’ Suppliers, 1650-1950 -R. [online] Available at: http://www.npg.org.uk/research/programmes/directory-of-suppliers/r.php [Accessed on 14th June 2013].

Wilson, J., 1989. Christchurch Swamp to City: A short history of the Christchurch drainage board 1875-1989. Te Waihora Press: Lincoln, New Zealand.

Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directories. [microfiche] Held at Christchurch City Libraries.

Making a mark on Christchurch – tea sets, houses and cathedrals

Posted on 15 May 2013 by Jessie Garland

In 1863, the Captain Cook departed Glasgow for the small port of Lyttleton, New Zealand. On board was a man by the name of Samuel Jamieson, who was travelling to Christchurch with his wife Maria and four children.

Like so many early settlers in Christchurch, Samuel established a business in the city. A joiner by trade, he started a building firm that his sons, James and William, subsequently took over and ran well into the 20^th century. By the turn of the century, J & W Jamieson, as it became known, was one of the leading construction companies in Christchurch. They were responsible for the erection of the Roman Catholic cathedral on Barbadoes Street in the early 1900s, as well as the Government buildings in Cathedral Square (1911), the Christchurch Press building (also in the Square), and the Auckland Post Office.

James Jamieson. Image: Cyclopedia of New Zealand, 1903.

James Jamieson, who we’re interested in today, married and he and his wife had three daughters, Mary, Maria and Jeannie. Tragically, his wife, Jeannie Hay Jamieson, died in 1887 at the age of 24, possibly during childbirth. We don’t know if James remarried, but in 1906, he and his now adult daughters moved to a large house on Hereford Street, and in 1909 built what became known as Williams House on the same site.

We excavated part of the Williams House site on Hereford Street last year and found an interesting collection of artefacts. We believe these were discarded by the Jamieson family during the first few years of their life in Hereford Street, before they moved into Williams House. The assemblage is filled with bits and pieces of household rubbish, much of it ordinary, like pharmaceutical and perfume bottles, plates and chamber pots, metal containers and old sheep bones.

Excavation of the basement found at the Wiliams House site. You can see some of the artefacts emerging from the ground in the center of the photo. Image: Kirsa Webb.

There are, however, a few things which are especially evocative of the daily life of James Jamieson and his daughters. A few bottles of artistic and photographic materials suggest an interest in painting or photography (or both). This is perhaps not surprising, given that James collected art, had a gallery in Williams House and was involved in the Canterbury Society of Arts. We didn’t know, however, that James – or his daughters – were actively involved in artistic pursuits themselves.

Winsor and Newton glass bottle found at the Williams House site. Winsor and Newton were famous suppliers of artist’s materials from 1837 onwards, including inks and paints. Image: Kirsa Webb.

Maclaren’s Imperial Cheese jar found at the Williams House site. Image: Kirsa Webb.

Another glass jar contained something called Maclaren’s Imperial Cheese, an early spreadable cheese imported from Canada. It must have been disgusting, but its presence makes us wonder which of the family bought it and whether or not they liked it.

Perhaps the most interesting of the artefacts found was an almost complete blue and white tea set, which we can easily imagine one or more of the Jamiesons using to entertain guests in the home or provide daily afternoon teas for the family.

A tea set found at the Williams House site on Hereford Street, Christchurch. The set was made by a Staffordshire pottery, John Aynsley and Sons, between 1891 and 1909 and is decorated with a transfer printed floral pattern and gilt banding around the edges. Image: Jessie Garland.

A ladies tea gown, as advertised in the Auckland Star in 1895. Image: Auckland Star.

Tea drinking was an important aspect of Victorian and Edwardian life in New Zealand, in a way that it isn’t really anymore. As well as being a social and cultural link to Britain, an afternoon tea party could be a social event in itself. Afternoon tea originated in the 1840s with the Duchess of Bedford, a friend of Queen Victoria, and had its own etiquette and rituals, involving everything from elaborate tea gowns to beautiful, fine, matching tea sets to food (Maclaren’s Imperial Cheese, perhaps?).

This particular tea set is made of bone china, a type of fine china often used for tea-wares, especially those bought by people of higher social status and/or wealth than average. It’s not surprising to find a bone china set in this context – we already know that, as the co-owner of a very successful company, James Jamieson was prosperous, and this part of Christchurch was fairly popular with the city’s elite at the time. The large house that they moved into had previously belonged to George and Julia Hart, who built it in the 1870s and were prominent members of society in Christchurch.

It is, however, quite rare to find a complete or almost complete tea set in one archaeological site. People are much more likely to throw away a single cup or saucer than they are to discard an entire set. We have to wonder then, what happened to lead to James or his daughters throwing this one away. Personally, I like to think that someone tripped over a cat and flung the tea tray across the room. Alternatively, the tea set may simply have been replaced by a newer and more fashionable set.

However it was thrown away, this tea set, along with the art and photography bottles and the spreadable cheese, allows us a glimpse into the lives of the Jamiesons and the opportunity to follow them through time. We started with a man, his wife and their children, who travelled half way across the world to a new life. They and their descendants built a successful business, helped to build a city and, in so doing, established a prominent position for themselves in Christchurch.

Jessie Garland

Bibliography

Auckland Star. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast?a=d&cl=CL1.AS&e=——-10–1—-0–.

Acland, L. G. D., 1975. The Early Canterbury Runs (4th ed.). Whitcoulls, Christchurch.

Christchurch City Council, 1986. The Architectural Heritage of Christchurch. 5. Government Buildings. [online] Available at: http://christchurchcitylibraries.com/Heritage/Publications/ChristchurchCityCouncil/ArchitecturalHeritage/GovernmentBuildings/.

Christchurch City Libraries, 2012. The Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament. [online] Available at: http://christchurchcitylibraries.com/Heritage/Places/Buildings/Worship/BlessedSacrament.

Cyclopedia of New Zealand [Canterbury Provincial District], 1903. [online] Available at: http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/tm/scholarly/tei-Cyc03Cycl-t1-body1-d3-d36-d7.html.

Press. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast?a=d&cl=CL1.CHP&e=——-10–1—-0–.

Star. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast?a=d&cl=CL1.TS&e=——-10–1—-0–.

Wises New Zealand Post Office Directories. Held by the Christchurch City Library.

Our thanks also go to Erin Kimber (Macmillan Brown Library), Gareth Wright (Christchurch City Council) and Sarah Murray (Canterbury Museum) for their assistance in tracking down information for this post.

A gentleman’s home

Posted on 9 May 2013 by Katharine

Imagine you’re John Cracroft Wilson. It’s 1854 and you’ve just arrived in the fledgling settlement of Christchurch. You’re 46, English and educated at Oxford, although you were born in India and spent most of your life there, making a name for yourself in the civil service. You’ve arrived at Lyttelton with your second wife, a daughter from your first marriage, a retinue of Indian servants and some livestock.

John Cracroft Wilson, c.1878. Source: Rolleston album 2. Ref: PA1-q-197-22-4, Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.

John Cracroft Wilson, c.1878. Source: Alexander Turnbull Library.

You’re here for a couple of reasons. Firstly, you’re suffering from stress and a sabbatical has been recommended. Secondly, you’re looking for somewhere for ex-East India Company employees to retire to. And apparently you have some plans of your own – and money. You tried Australia on the way here, but didn’t much like that, but you think Canterbury sounds pretty good, because there’s land, lots of it, and apparently it’s there for the taking.

And take it you do: Cracroft station (one of Canterbury’s biggest runs), High Peak station and Broadlands station were all taken up by Wilson during his first sojourn in New Zealand, along with land in the suburb we now know as Cashmere. This is where Wilson made his home (he had managers on each of his stations) and it’s this home that interests us.

Back to imaging that you’re Wilson and it’s 1854. Christchurch is pretty new at this point, and building materials are in short supply. The nearest timber is at Riccarton, Papanui or on Banks Peninsula. But anyway, you’re from a class of English society that believes in building in permanent materials. Unfortunately, however, the brick industry’s not really established in Canterbury yet and, well, it’d be a whole lot cheaper to make your own, especially as you have all those servants and some useful materials nearby.

And so that’s what Wilson did. He used sun-dried mud (adobe) bricks for the exterior walls of his house and for the internal walls on the ground floor, while the walls on the first floor were mud-and-stud. The mud bricks were made by Wilson’s Indian servants from a mixture of earth, clay, sand and vegetable matter, much of which would have been sourced nearby.

Top: An external wall, Cracroft House. Bottom: An internal mud & stud wall on the first floor. Photos: I. Hill.

Analysing these bricks tells us that the mixture was set into wooden frames (with four sides) that sat on a bed of straw, the excess material raked off the top and the bricks left to dry in the sun. The resulting bricks were 1 foot long, 6 inches wide and weighed 7.5 kg each. Wilson also used some lightly fired red bricks in the external walls and used these bricks and mud bricks in the chimney. The mortar used in the walls was also a cob mixture (but contained no vegetable matter), and the walls were coated with a thick clay plaster, with a thin lime plaster on top of this.

Top: Sun-dried red bricks. Bottom: Sun-dried mud bricks. Note the ridges on the top of both bricks, and the variation in shape and size. Photo: I. Hill.

Sticking with the theme of using locally available materials, Wilson used basalt blocks for the house’s foundations (these would have come from a quarry on the Port Hills). On top of this layer of basalt sat a layer of gravel and earth, and then a layer of mud mortar. The base course of the external wall was a layer of relatively small high quality red bricks (also clearly made in a wooden frame set on the ground).

The use of timber in the house was kept to a minimum. Some timber framework was used in the internal walls and the roof was timber, including the shingles. Timber was also used for the veranda, doors, windows, architraves, skirting boards and floors.

The original shingles of Cracroft House being revealed during demolition. Photo: I. Hill.

Wilson built himself and his family a pretty basic house, for the most part using locally available – and probably relatively cheap – materials. But Wilson was no ordinary man. He was a descendant of the Cracrofts of Hackthorn Hall in Lincolnshire, a prominent figure in British India and would become a prominent figure in colonial Canterbury. This sort of man does not build himself an ordinary house. He builds himself a house with 11 rooms. That’s right, 11 rooms. In 1871 (the first year for which statistics are available), the average New Zealand house had just under four rooms. None of these rooms was a toilet or bathroom, facilities that were no doubted located a suitable distance from the house.

Wilson, then, had lots of space for entertaining, as befitted a gentleman of his status. History tells us that Wilson – who was later knighted for his role in the Indian Mutiny – was known for both his generosity and paying low wages, as well as his egotism, arrogance and kindness, and his honesty. To me, his house reflects the contradictions in Wilson’s personality – it was a large house, built with rooms and space to share, and it was a plain house, built honestly and cheaply using local materials. It was also a farm house, not a city house. And unlike many farmers who built relatively simple homes in the early years of settlement, Wilson never replaced his house, dying there in 1881. In this way, too, Cracroft House epitomises Wilson’s frugality.

North elevation, Cracroft House. Image: K. Webb.

Katharine Watson

References

Acland, L. G. D., 1975. Early Canterbury Runs. 4th ed. Whitcoulls, Christchurch.

Kristiansen, T., 2012. John Cracroft Wilson. Dictionary of New Zealand Biography. [online] Available at: http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/biographies/1w31/wilson-john-cracroft.

Ogilvie, G., 2009. The Port Hills of Christchurch. Phillips&King Publishers, Christchurch.

Toomath, W., 1986. Built in New Zealand: The houses we live in. HarperCollins Publishers, Auckland.

“He’s jist sharpening his teeth”

Posted on 2 May 2013 by Katharine

One of the exciting things about being an archaeologist in Christchurch at the moment is that we’re digging up lots and lots of artefacts. And the more artefacts you dig up, the more chances there are of finding something rare or unusual. Sometimes the rarity relates to the monetary or sentimental value of the artefact, such as the fobwatch we talked about a couple of weeks ago. And sometimes the unusual artefact is something pretty ordinary.

Like a toothbrush.

Bone toothbrush handle found on an archaeological site in Christchurch. This was made by S. Maw, Son & Thompson. Their trademark is impressed on the handle, along with the words “ALPASS LIVERPOOL” (Photo: K. Webb).

This teardrop-shaped bone toothbrush handle was found during archaeological work on an historic hotel site in Christchurch, along with a ceramic toothpaste pot (below) and other personal artefacts. We were pretty excited to find it, since toothbrushes (or even parts of them) aren’t often found on 19^th century archaeological sites in New Zealand. Our research suggests that this may be a result of vastly different attitudes towards oral hygiene at this time, not only in New Zealand but throughout the world.

John Gosnell and Co. cherry toothpaste pot and lid found along with the toothbrush. The lid is decorated with a polychrome transfer print that features the image of a young Queen Victoria. More information about Gosnell’s products is available here.

The humble bristle toothbrush originated in China, although ‘toothsticks’ and the like are known to have been used for thousands of years. These earliest bristle toothbrushes weren’t so humble, being made of expensive materials like ivory, gold (imagine!), silver or precious wood. So only the very wealthy could afford them, although there were some cheaper toothbrushes around. In Europe, however, people cleaned their teeth using sticks or rags… Toothbrushes were available in England from at least the 17th century but weren’t common until a certain William Addis was thrown in jail in 1780 for starting a riot. At least, that’s how the story goes. Whatever the truth of the matter, Addis is credited with introducing cheap bone-handled toothbrushes to England, and no doubt kick-starting a revolution in dental hygiene. Addis’s toothbrushes were typically made from animal bones and the bristles also came from animals. Badger bristles were apparently the most expensive but pig bristles were more common.

Pages from Maw and Sons Book of Illustrations to S. Maw & Son’s Quarterly Price-Current.

We know that from c.1850 on many toothbrushes were imprinted with trademarks, slogans or details of the manufacturer and our toothbrush is no exception. It’s stamped with the mark of S. Maw, Son & Thompson (see photo above). From this, we know that the toothbrush was made between 1870 and 1901, when this firm was in operation.

The Maw firm was the largest pharmaceutical wholesaler in Britain and was actually a distributor of toothbrushes, not a manufacturer (i.e. a middleman). From 1870-1901, they sold toothbrushes made by William Addis & Son Brushworks, the company founded by William Addis almost a century earlier and continued by his son. The words “ALPASS LIVERPOOL” were also stamped on the handle and probably indicate the place of manufacture: Alpass Road in Liverpool, England. The number ’29’ stamped below the head indicates the manufacturer’s model number.

So why are toothbrushes – and toothpaste pots – so rare on 19th century archaeological sites in New Zealand, given that they’re such everyday items today (not to mention items that are thrown out pretty regularly)? Lots of chemists and druggists in New Zealand were advertising toothbrushes for sale, so they were definitely available.

We think that the rarity reflects a lack of awareness of the importance of dental hygiene, and possibly also that a rag – which would always be readily available and would cost nothing – would do the job just fine, thanks. And dentists in the 19th century had a pretty fearsome reputation, so anything to do with dental hygiene may have been a little suspect. But there might have been some other factors too, including the cost of toothbrushes.

Press, 18 February 1874

So who used our toothbrush? It could have been the proprietor of the hotel, or a guest. If it was the proprietor, however, we might have found more toothbrushes, given that probably even 19th century toothbrushes needed to be replaced regularly. Our guess, then, is that it was used by a guest. We don’t know for certain that the same guest left the toothpaste pot behind, but it seems reasonably likely, given the rarity of both artefacts in 19th century archaeological sites in New Zealand. And who knows, maybe a hotel servant who chanced to see this guest brushing their teeth thought the guest was in fact sharpening his teeth.

Kirsa Webb

Taranaki Herald, 1 November 1880.

Bibliography

Mattick, B., 2010. A Guide to Bone Toothbrushes of the 19th and early 20th Centuries. Barbara E. Mattick, USA, available from Xlibris Corporation.
Maw, S & Son, 1869. Book of Illustrations to S. Maw & Son’s Quarterly Price-Current. Butler & Tanner, London. Available at: http://archive.org/details/bookofillustrati00mawsuoft.
Press, 18 February 1874, page 3.
Taranaki Herald, 1 November 1880, page 4.

Christchurch uncovered

Exploring Christchurch's past through archaeology

Tag Archives: historical archaeology

A humble home

Let me tell you a story…

Making a mark on Christchurch – tea sets, houses and cathedrals

A gentleman’s home

“He’s jist sharpening his teeth”