Life Before Plastic: Kmart Culture

Last time on the blog we talked about packaging and how our Victorian ancestors made do without plastic trays to wrap their cans of coke in (and all the rest of it). This week we’re going to take a closer look at plastic in the household. Plastic in the household isn’t quite as bad as plastic in the supermarket, but there still is a lot of it. There’s the plastic laundry basket, the plastic on the fridge door handles, the polyester clothes in the wardrobe and the plastic bucket in the laundry, to name a few.

If we were to go back in time to a Victorian house, we wouldn’t see any of those things. The clothes would be made of wool, or cotton, or linen, the bucket of metal, there wouldn’t be a fridge and the laundry basket would be an actual wicker basket. Now I could go through object by object and compare what we have today to what the Victorians used, but that would get a bit repetitive and boring. Instead what I want to do is take a look at the bigger picture and the different social and economic systems between now and 150 years ago. (A quick note, I make some big generalisations about purchasing habits in the next few paragraphs. Obviously, people’s purchasing habits are completely dependent on their individual economic situation and personal beliefs, and not every single object out there is cheap plastic junk. I’m just generalising to make a point about a certain type of behaviour).

A 19th century bone toothbrush and its modern-day plastic equivalent. Image: C. Watson.

Something you hear all the time is that things aren’t made to last like they used to. It’s a cliché, but it’s also true. As we discussed when talking about packaging, the main benefit of plastic is that it’s cheap to manufacture, meaning that plastic items are cheap to purchase. In the current economic climate, where manufacturers are focused on maximising profit and lowering the bottom line, plastic is often the most economical choice for goods to be made of. For some manufacturers that are using plastic the focus isn’t on making a high-quality product that will last a lifetime, but on making money. If we want to be really cynical, manufacturers benefit when products have a short lifespan as it means the customer has to keep purchasing the same product over and over again.

These cheaply manufactured plastic objects can be purchased from many stores, but I’m going to use one store that’s very popular at the moment to illustrate my point- Kmart- and what I’m going to refer to as “Kmart Culture”. If you’ve been paying attention on the internet for the past few years, you’ll have seen people going absolutely nuts for Kmart homewares. From the throws to the cushions, candles, and wall prints, there’s always a new trend.

Just a few of the many Kmart memes that exist on the internet. Image: Google.

Kmart Culture is completely focused on what’s new, because there’s always something new. There’s no consideration of the fact that there’s only so many places in the household that can be decorated with a throw blanket and a cushion. Instead new cushions are purchased, the old cushions are put in a cupboard, and they sit out of sight until there’s a Marie Kondo inspired cleaning spree and they go to the tip.  And the thing that facilitates being able to purchase new home décor, despite already owning various homewares, is the cheap price point, which is only possible because of plastic. You might be picking up on the fact that there’s a bit of a cycle going on here. Plastic makes goods cheap. People can afford to purchase non-essential items (eg. Home décor) because it’s cheap. People can afford to purchase even more non-essential items, even when they already have those items at home, because it’s cheap. People have no qualms about throwing out the old items, because they were cheap. Cheap plastic items end up in landfills.

With that pattern of behaviour in the forefront of our minds, let’s jump now to 19th century Christchurch where there was no plastic. By the mid-19th century the industrial revolution was in full swing. The introduction of mass-manufactured goods through the development of factories in Britain, combined with the discovery of new resources through world exploration and the creation of a global trade market through British and European colonisation meant products were cheaper than in previous centuries and there was a wider variety of things that could be bought (Rafferty 2019). This growth meant people had more money and there was a shift from people making things at home to purchasing them from shops.

All of this sounds relatively similar to modern times, and that’s because, in a way, it is. In the 19th century we see the beginning of the social and economic systems that led to modern day Kmart Culture. Whilst things weren’t as cheap as they are today, they were still cheaper than they had been in the past. In some ways it’s hard to compare the cost of goods in the 19th century with the cost of goods today. Whilst we can compare prices and index them (see here if you’re interested in more detail), in many ways it’s comparing oranges and apples. How do you compare the cost of a kettle in the 19th century, made of cast iron and designed to be heated on a range, with a modern electrical jug? And which electrical jug would you even choose to compare it with, the $10 one from Kmart or the $270 Breville one from Briscoes? Even if you chose to compare it with a cast iron jug they range from $30 to over a $100 in price.

Another way to compare is not looking at the cost of goods, but at what was thrown away. In Kmart Culture old items are being replaced by new items, despite the fact the old items are still useable. Think back over the past ten years, what household items have you thrown out? Nic nacs? Ornaments? Paintings? Cushions? Furniture? Clothing? Utensils? Pots and pans? Plates? If I think of my parents house 20 years ago and compare it to now, nearly everything in it has been replaced over the past two decades.

When we look at the archaeology of 19th century Christchurch, and in particular at rubbish pits and what people were throwing away, there’s two big patterns. Firstly, we don’t find homeware items that often, but we do come across them. We’ve found things like kettles, pots, cast iron ranges, irons, and bed knobs, but they’re rare and we definitely don’t find them in every site. There are other household items that aren’t rare, but we don’t find in every site. Things like cutlery, knives, vases and ornaments.

Some of the more unusual household items we come across. Image: C. Watson.

The relative scarcity of these objects in the archaeological record suggests there wasn’t a 19th century Kmart Culture around their purchase. People purchased these items and held onto them until they broke. In fact, a lot of the items shown in the above photograph came from a site where the occupants both passed away and we think the objects were thrown out by their children preparing the house for sale- proving that some things were intended to last a lifetime.

What we do find in nearly every single rubbish pit we excavate are ceramics. Plates, side plate, cups, teapots, platters, sugar bowls, tureens, jugs, chamber pots, bowls, basins, ewers- you name it and we’ve found it a thousand times over. And we find them in every form possible, from a single rim sherd to half a vessel that can be refitted to a fully complete item. It’s likely that a lot of the vessels we find are things that people have dropped or knocked and they’ve broken, and that’s why they’ve been thrown out, but given the quantities that we find either the 19th century residents of Christchurch were the clumsiest people in the world, or there was another reason why things were being thrown out.

Some of the many, many ceramic vessels we find in Christchurch archaeological sites. Image: C. Watson.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Kmart Culture of the 19th century: ceramic dinner sets and tea sets. The industrial revolution led to pottery factories in the Staffordshire region of England producing large quantities of ceramic vessels for the export market. The scale of production meant it was possible for a range of different designs to be produced, and different fashion trends are apparent throughout the century. As new styles of ceramics became popular, people threw out their old sets and replaced them with new pieces.

19th stores were constantly advertising the arrival of new tea and dinner sets in the latest fashions. This 1893 advertisement shows both the availability of new ceramic vessels and the price range. Image: Star

Just a few of the ceramic pattern styles popular through the 19th century. The top left is the Willow pattern, an example of the Chinese inspired designs popular at the beginning of the 19th century (with Willow pattern itself popular throughout the 19th and 20th centuries). Top middle is the Asiatic Pheasants pattern, a floral pattern with Chinese influences. On the top right is the Rhine pattern, an example of the romantic landscape designs inspired by European scenery and buildings, popular around the middle of the century. The bottom left is the Cairo pattern. The style of the Cairo pattern, with a design that breaks the pattern of ‘central scene with border’ shown on the plates in the top row, was inspired by the Aesthetic Movement of the 1870s. Bottom centre is the Albert Star pattern, with a simple design featuring a central motif and a border pattern. Bottom right is a simple banded design, seen on plates and cups from the end of the century. Image: C. Watson.

When we take this concept of “Kmart Culture” and compare modern purchasing habits to Victorian era ones, we see they’re not all that different. When people’s wages are high enough to allow for casual spending, and the goods they’re purchasing are cheap enough, then people will buy stuff. In the 19th century not every item met these criteria- cups and plates might have but not furniture, and that’s one of the reasons why we find tea wares and table wares in nearly every archaeological site but not table-tops and chair legs. In modern times almost everything can be bought cheaply, meaning that we can throw away nearly everything, and if our Victorian era ancestors had been able to buy a new kettle for $10 (or the equivalent of $10), then I’m sure we would be finding kettles in the archaeological record as well.

Clara Watson

‘It isn’t all beer and skittles’

– Thomas Hughes, Tom Brown’s School Days, 1857

It’s hard to picture what many of Christchurch’s buildings looked like before the earthquake. For many locals the torn down remains of a building or an empty lot remind them of a favourite hangout, a birthday or even the best burgers in town. The archaeology that has been excavated and collected from these sites and buildings provides evidence of earlier and equally personal stories and events, proving these buildings were full of life for over a century. One example of this is the Oxford Hotel, also known as the Oxford Family Hotel, the Oxford Victualling Co. and latterly as the Oxford on Avon.

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The Oxford on Avon Hotel post-earthquake, 8 November 2011. Photo: M. Hennessey.

The Oxford Hotel was located on the corner of Oxford Terrace and Colombo Street and was one of the city’s older hotels. Originally established as a boarding house by Antill and Sarah Adley in 1860 or 1861, the hotel gained a licence to sell alcohol in 1862 and began operating as a pub as well as a boarding house. It was at this time that the establishment was renamed the Oxford Family Hotel (Greenaway 2007: 14). Adley had proprietorship of the hotel until his retirement in 1873 (The Cyclopedia of New Zealand 1903) and continued to own the land and lease it out until 1903 (Christchurch Deeds Index C1 c.1853: 616). The hotel lease was purchased by Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Dann in 1875, who transferred the lease to Mr. Bately, who rebuilt the building in 1883 (this was the building that stood until the earthquake; Star 5/6/1883: 3). What we found from the archaeological data and historical records is that this building not only acted as a hotel but as a central hub for the wider community, which was not uncommon for 19th century hotels in New Zealand.

market place


View from the Colombo Street bridge looking south to the Cathedral: at left is the Oxford Hotel and at right is Market (Victoria) Square, c. 1885. Image: Christchurch City Library, File Reference CCL Photo CD 02 IMG0020.

 


Image: Star 22/4/1878: 4.

The hotel was nice and close to Victoria Square, first known as Market Square and a centre of activity in early Christchurch. This must have been good for business and it allowed the hotel to cater to the wider community, hosting meetings and events, acting as a morgue or emergency room in some cases (Press 15/4/1879: 2; Star 4/2/1890: 3), and all the while supplying cheap alcohol from the pub. During Dann’s operation of the hotel he offered membership to a skittle alley and often hosted skittle and quoit tournaments. Mail and messages could be left at the Oxford by or for patrons (Star 28/4/1869: 3), so it functioned as a post office too. Most importantly, though, the Oxford Hotel was a pub: Dann’s advertisements in the local newspapers constantly mentioned the array of spirits available, with an emphasis on the cheap prices.

Of the 925 glass artefacts recovered from the site, 395 were black beer bottles, 196 were wine bottles and another 99 were other liquor or spirit bottles. There were also 52 porter or stout bottles. Sounds like a lot of alcohol, right? Think again. To put it into context, even if only one bottle of alcohol were drunk a day, this would represent little more than two year’s drinking. So where did all the other bottles go, then? Well, the Avon River was conveniently close…


Adley advertisement. Image: Lyttelton Times 23/8/1862: 3.

 

black


Sample of black beer and wine bottle bases from the site. The black beer bottles that make up the bulk of this assemblage become less common after 1880. As such, it is likely that these bottles were associated with either Adley or Dann’s period at the hotel. Image: K. Webb.

A number of smoking pipes were also found, confirming that the combination of alcohol and tobacco was just as common in the 19th century as it is today. Many of the pipes were made by Charles Crop, a manufacturer from London whose pipes have been found on hotel and residential sites in both New Zealand and Australia (Brassey 1991: 30; Macready et al. 1990: 57). Tantalisingly, the embossing on some of the pipe stems hints at the origins of some of the smokers: “QUEENSLANDER” and “LACHLANDER”. Perhaps the smoker purchased these as a reminder of home.


‘Crop’ smoking pipes. Image: K. Webb.

 


Examples of pharmaceuticals. Image: K. Webb.

One surprising aspect of the archaeological assemblage was the large array of pharmaceutical bottles. The bottles included anything and everything, from Barry’s Tricopherous – which claimed to preserve, restore and beautify the hair, preventing baldness and grey hair (Nelson Evening Mail 29/1/ 1870: 3) – to items such as Piesse and Lubin’s perfumes. Items of medicinal use were also recovered, such as Kay Brothers Essence of Linseed, for those pesky coughs, and J. C Eno’s Effervescing Fruit Salts for indigestion. A toothbrush and toothpaste jar were also recorded. Perhaps these were personal items used by the proprietor’s family, or by guests who stayed there. Or perhaps these were offered to guests in the way that complimentary shampoo and conditioner are offered today – after all, it was advertised as first class accommodation.


Image: Star, 24/12/1874: 4.

A significant quantity of cups and saucers were also found, indicating that the hotel was serving more than just alcohol. The tea cups and saucers collected from the site were largely porcelain and decorated with a gilt tea leaf or sprigged design. A number of whiteware teawares were also gilt-banded and it may have been that the hotel had a gilt decorated tea set.

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Porcelain ‘sprigged’ ware. Image: K. Webb.

Efforts to provide a first class establishment are also evident in the ceramics used as serving ware. Serving wares, such as tureens, and dining ware, such as plates, were also recorded in large numbers. A number of ceramics were decorated with the Asiatic Pheasants, Willow or Beauty patterns, suggesting that the hotel may have had several matching dinner sets. Although all these patterns are common in 19th and early 20th century archaeological sites, they would have completed the dining room experience and that feeling of first rate service for hotel patrons.

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A plate decorated with the Asiatic Pheasants pattern. Image: K. Webb.

 

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Faunal remains. Image: K. Webb.

Like many New Zealand hotels, the Oxford Hotel appears to have offered some more ‘exotic’ meats on its menu, including birds, cockles, oysters and a little bit of fish. The remains of these non-mammalian meats are rarely found at 19th century European archaeological sites in Christchurch, except at hotel sites. As today, people went out to eat more exotic meals than they might have had at home. From the sheep bones, we know that roast legs of lamb or mutton were being served, and may have been the most popular meal at the hotel, followed by cuts from the shoulder.

The evidence from the Oxford Hotel says many things. It tells us how the hotel operated as just that, a hotel. It provided guests with a first class dining experience that included matching dining sets and porcelain tea sets. It was a place where people drank beer and wine while overlooking Victoria Square and the Avon River. But the evidence also remembers the building and the people who operated and frequented a local and successful pub, where alcohol was consumed in quantities, where pipes were smoked leisurely and a game of skittles echoed in the background. It was a hub, a central link to Christchurch’s development and maybe, just maybe, someone’s favourite place in 19th century Christchurch.

Kim Bone

References

Brassey R. 1991. Clay Tobacco Pipes from the Site of the Victoria Hotel, Auckland, New Zealand. Australian Journal of Historical Archaeology 9: 27-30.

The Cyclopedia of New Zealand [Canterbury Provincial District] 1903. [online] Available at: <http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz//tm/scholarly/tei-Cyc03Cycl.html>.

Greenaway, R.L.N., 2007. Woolston/Heathcote Cemetery Tour. [online] Available at: <http://christchurchcitylibraries.com/Heritage/Cemeteries/Woolston/HeathcoteCemetery.pdf>.

Macready, S. and Goodwyn, J., 1990. Slums and Self Improvement: The History and Archaeology of the Mechanics Institute, Auckland, and its Chancery Street Neighbourhood. Vol 2: The Artefacts and Faunal Material. Science and Research. Internal Report No 92. Department of Conservation.

Press. [online] Available at: <http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz>.

Star. [online] Available at: <http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz>.

Let me tell you a story…

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.


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 19th and early 20th 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.

Street Adress Numbers 2


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.


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.


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 19th and early 20th 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.

plate


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.

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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.

“He’s jist sharpening his teeth”

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.

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 19th 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.

toothpaste-pot-copy

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.

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

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.