Even More Shelf Brook Sherds

November 22, 2017 Tim Campbell-Green3 Comments

With an obvious predictability, I cannot resist having a poke around the brook whenever I’m in the neighbourhood – there is always something to find. Ok, so it’s not quite mudlarking on the Thames foreshore, but it is Glossop’s equivalent, and that makes it all the more important to us (if not quite as bountiful!). By the way, if anyone is interested in mudlarking, or the slightly haphazard and magpie approach to the past that this blog is following, then check out the book London in Fragments by Ted Sandling. I cannot recommend it enough – beautifully illustrated with fragments of pot, glass, pipe, stone, metal, etc. and each with a very interesting essay accompanying the item (be warned, the ‘Look Inside’ feature on Amazon misses out all of the photographs!). Just beautiful.

So then, the haul!

Pot 1 — At first glance, not that inspiring… but bear with me!

As is becoming my habit, unless they were decorated, or a rim, a base, or a handle, I left the white glazed earthernware and china in the brook. As a rule of thumb, these are the four criteria archaeologists use to sort out the ‘feature sherds’, which are diagnostic (giving us information about date, type, function, etc.) from the ‘body sherds’, which normally make up the majority of a assemblage. It is a rule of thumb, though, and some body sherds can be equally important if they are of an unusual fabric, or are able tell us more information.

So what can we see?

Pottery first. Top sherd is a from a small-ish and closed salt-glazed stoneware vessel. We can tell it is from a closed vessel (i.e. like a bottle, not open like a bowl), by the fact that the interior surface is rougher and unfinished – why waste your time glazing it properly if no one is going to see it? Also, the salt glazing process involves literally throwing salt into the high temperature kiln where it vapourises forming the characteristic glaze; this vapour will not readily reach the interior of the vessel. This vessel was probably something like an ink pot or similar, but by the late 19th century, the date of this sherd, salt-glazed stoneware was mass produced on a literal industrial scale, so it is difficult to be certain.

Middle right. Another closed salt-glazed stoneware vessel, same date, but larger – possibly a milk or lemonade bottle bottle or similar. This sherd is thickening slightly at the left, and so is perhaps forming the shoulder of the bottle.

Middle left, is another salt-glazed stoneware vessel. This one appears to be open, and is decorated by using the rouletting method – a small wheel with teeth was run over the surface to produce the characteristic incised decoration. This one has a very common motif of undulating lines around the body of the pot. The sherd is mid to late 19th century, and probably from a storage jar or crock, and despite being relatively thin, is probably from a large vessel.

Bottom left is the base to a milk or lemonade bottle (it is flat, but lifting slightly toward the middle of the base, and you can see the concentric lines that characterise the base of these bottles). Stoneware again, but a more conventional glaze which gives it the characteristic cream colour. Interestingly, when I flipped it over, you can see a manufacturing flaw – the glaze has pooled against the interior wall, and instead of vitrifying uniformly, it has bubbled and produced a very messy surface.

However, it won’t be seen because it is a what? “A closed vessel, Mr Hamnett”, chorused everyone – good to see you are paying attention. It also illustrates why it was probably unwise to reuse these bottles – if it contained milk (raw and unpasteurised, of course), there is no way you could hope to get that clean enough, even with a steriliser.

Bottom right. An interesting sherd… honest. It is a slip-glazed earthernware vessel, and to judge from the colour of the fabric (the clay itself) and the colour of the glaze, as well as the way it flakes away, it is probably 18th Century. Of course, I could be wrong… but there is something about that sherd that gives it an early-ish date.

Glass! Top is from a corked beer bottle… probably. Certainly corked, not capped or screw threaded, and almost certainly beer. And likely Victorian, or early Edwardian.

Middle is probably a Victorian mineral water bottle. The glass is thick and has an embossed ‘&’ sign and some other marks visible, which would have been the name of the maker and their logo. Without doing a lot of serious research, it would be very difficult to say who made it, as a lot of companies were called ‘Something & Something‘. That stated, there were so many mineral water companies that the bottles tended not to travel far, so theoretically there can’t be that many in the area, so it might be worth a look.

Bottom is just a bottle fragment, again probably from a mineral water bottle. i include it here because a) it is a blueish colour, and so potentially earlier than the rest, and b) it has two air bubbles trapped in the glass. At first I thought that it might have been hand blown, but no, I think it is just a feature of the manufacture. What is fun, though, is the fact that within those bubbles lies a tiny amount of Victorian air, preserved for eternity. I wonder what the Victorian period smelled like? Actually, on second thoughts…

So, nothing truly award winning, but a little slice of Glossop history nonetheless.

Just as I was about to walk away, I turned over a stone, and found the other side was flat and dressed.

It is a sandstone, and not local to the area as far as I can tell, but then I am no geologist. The dressing can be more clearly seen in this photograph, with the low winter sun picking out the chisel marks.

Stone 2 — The dressing clearly shown, with a possible mis-hit on the right.

Obviously it was once part of a building, but what part? Maybe a door or window lintel perhaps? I don’t think it is particularly old, and it is quite a coarse dressing, so perhaps it is from a worker’s cottage or similar. The bank in this area seems to have been shored up against erosion, and it probably building demolition rubble dumped here from nearby.

As always, comments are welcome.

I shall post more in a day or so… this time on the subject of Victoria Bridge. Probably!

The Letter ‘R’

September 21, 2017September 21, 2017 Tim Campbell-Green2 Comments

At the bottom of St Mary’s Road, on the left hand side, and just behind the back yard of The Retreat beauty salon, there is a gatepost next to the footpath. It is a fairly standard, if precisely carved, gatepost, and much like many of the others you would find in the area. However, this one has a large upper case letter ‘R’ carved expertly into its face.

Letter R 1 — The letter ‘R’ beautifully carved.

I have no clue why it was carved, nor who did it, nor when. The buildings in this part of Glossop centre are among the oldest (1840’s or thereabouts), and the letter style certainly suggests Victorian origin, and probably early Victorian – the large serifs recalls Georgian lettering. It has clearly been used as a gatepost multiple times, with different gate sizes and shapes, and even paint colours – you can see the evidence in the form of holes and paint. Importantly, most of these were placed over the carving, so post-date it.

Letter R 2 — Use and re-use – the evidence of the holes, fixings, and paint.

I checked the early maps for any idea, but nothing was shown that may explain its origin. I haven’t had time to check the census records, and these may shed some light on it, but as it stands… no idea! Whilst looking at the post, I found a child’s toy marble in the gutter – not a particularly old one, but it has seen some use, and is covered in scratches and chips. So obviously, I picked it up!

Marble — I can’t resist a find, even if it is not quite archaeology.

Any thoughts or suggestions regarding the letter on a postcard please (or you could just, you know, post a comment below).

Archaeology

Bottle Top on Bank Street

August 20, 2017August 29, 2017 Tim Campbell-Green3 Comments

I found an interesting thing the other day. I was walking down Bank Street, down to Milltown on the way to the park. For those of you who don’t know it, it is a cobbled path (setts, actually!) that winds its way through demolished mill-scapes, and which allows access to High Street East. I nearly wrote ‘easy access’, but with a push-chair it is a nightmare! That said, I really like it. It has the air of a long forgotten path, Tolkein-esque, leading to who knows what adventure.

The path through Mirkwood, to the Lonely Mountain!

I want to do a longer post on Bank Street at some stage in the near future – it is interesting and full of history. It was originally believed to follow the path of a Roman road, although more recent research suggests, however, that this is in fact an early-modern (16th Century or so) track.

However, for now, I want to share my find.

Bottle Top 1 — The screw-thread can be seen winding around the base.

It is a bottle stop made from vulcanised rubber. It had eroded out of the side of the path from behind a partly ruined wall, and was just lying on top of a trickle of soil on the left hand side going up. The screw-thread winds into the neck of a thick-walled glass bottle containing a carbonated liquid – often a soft drink such as water, but also beer. Originally it would have had a soft rubber ring around the cap that would form a seal to keep the drink fresh until it was unscrewed. The design was patented in the early 1880’s by Henry Barrett, and immediately became very popular, with various design improvements ensuring the basic concept was in use for nearly 100 years. Generally speaking, though, the date of such a screw top is roughly 1890-1920, after which time the crimped rim top became popular. There is a really interesting website that details quite a bit about these bottle stops here.

More interestingly, and as was quite common, the top of the screw cap carried the logo of the company manufacturing the drink inside the bottle – in this instance, the company is Jewsbury and Brown Ltd, Manchester.

Bottle Top 2 — Jewsbury & Brown Ltd. Manchester. The preservation on the bottle top is wonderful.

Jewsbury and Brown were a large company founded in 1826 and based in Manchester, their premises being at 113 Market Street, and later Ardwick Green. They produced carbonated drinks that were sold in Lancashire and the north, and beyond, until they were bought out by Schweppes in 1964. A bit of internet research reveals that they specialised in non-alcoholic carbonated drinks, fizzy water, and toothpaste – but, disappointingly, never beer! Here is a bit of their history, but much more is available online with a little search.

I love this – not just a bit of archaeology that quite literally threw itself at me, but a real tangible insight into the lives of those of the past. There was nothing else associated with the screw-top, and one gets the impression that it was simply unscrewed from the bottle and thrown over the wall, the thrower determined to drink whatever was within the bottle in a single sitting. Let’s imagine them walking along that uneven path when they did it, clogs striking the setts, perhaps on a hot summer’s day, and at the end of a long shift in the mill, appreciating the fizzy drink playing on their tongue… 100+ years ago.

It’s a neat little thing, and one that will be added to the collection. It also makes me wonder what else is behind that wall, waiting to tumble out, so keep your eyes peeled!