[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBT_7372rao&w=560&h=315]
Category Archives: Historical Archaeology Class Blog (Spring ’15)
Gather ‘Round and Grab a S’more
…and I’ll tell you a short tale about friends, family, and not so far off places.
Unfortunately, the file is too large to upload directly, and Google Drive has disabled the audio. So if you would like the full experience, I would recommend downloading a copy.
Following that note, I should add: the song playing in the background is the official instrumental version of “Dog Days are Over,” by Florence and the Machine.
Story Time!
So here’s a link to my story! I really wanted to make it a choose your own adventure but could not figure out how with the tools at my disposal.
It’s the lifetime of a strange man… that’s right
It May Not Be Diagnostic But It’s a Rad Design: The Crescent Moon Owl Bottle Story
I have never spent as long thinking about a single glass bottle as I did while attempting to pry any ounce of information out of the internet about this guy. Now, to be fair, I can’t say I normally spend that much time thinking about single glass bottles, but even if I was a renowned glass bottologist, I’m sure this one would still take the cake.
Here are the facts:
This bottle is handmade, cylindrical, and has a patent finish. Basic, visual comparison with the SHA catalogue suggests it is some sort of medicinal, druggists bottle. The base is a molded 2-piece cup bottom, with two seams that extend up the sides of the body to a bit into the finish. The only decoration is an embossed makers mark on the base of an owl sitting on a crescent moon.
That’s it.
What really gets my goat about this bottle is not the fact that I was unable to find any solid information on it, but more that its makers mark is so unique, and I was STILL unable to identify this particular vessel. What I was able to identify, however, was the mark.
The embossed owl perched upon a crescent moon that reads “TRADEMARK.” Now that’s a way to let people know that a logo is restricted. The mark is one that decorates the body of Gillett’s HIGH GRADE Extract bottles, manufactured in the mid-1800’s by the Gillett-Sherer company in Chicago. However, the bottle in question is undoubtedly not high-grade extract, or the same as any of the Gillett bottles I was able to find. Not only is its shape not one used for any Gillett (or Sherer) products the internet has to offer, but it’s basal makers mark is also anomalous!
After circling around these same photos (and pinterest posts and ebay listings and the seventh circle of antique hell), I turned to the manufacturer for guidance. Which was not given. While I was able to find the street address of the men who started the company, this function of this bottle evaded me. Eventually, I had to give up.
My only explanation for this bottle is that it was some sort of test run, proof, or spoof of a Gillett bottle. I can think of no other way for this vessel to be so historically invisible– as a product of the digital age, where all information is available to me at the click of a button, this was particularly frustrating. Still, in some ways I appreciate this mystery. If anything, it is a great example of how, in archaeology, so much time and energy can be poured into artefacts that never give away their secrets. In some ways it is also an exercise in reading between the lines of history: there is a reason we are unable to place this bottle. While this reason may be nothing more than circumstantial, I feel it is still meaningful– which is, to me, the essence of understanding archaeological interpretation.
Lee’s Pharmacy Seattle, WA
This particular bottle was fun to research. The bottle is artifact 45KI765/M-55 and is a medicinal bottle with a prescription lip and stands about 6 inches tall. The bottle itself is not colored. However, it is embossed on the front and says “Lee’s Pharmacy Alaska Building Seattle, Wash.” The base of the bottle is embossed as well with “W. T. CO U. S. A.”
Upon further research the W.T. CO U.S.A is a maker’s mark from Whitall Tatum & Co. which was located in Millville, NJ. So it appears this bottle was manufactured there and then utilized by Lee’s Pharmacy. This particular bottle was manufactured sometime between 1901- 1914. Lee’s Pharmacy was located in the historic Alaska Building located in Seattle, WA and stayed in business from 1889-1914.
The bottle obviously contained some sort of medicine although it is difficult to say exactly what was inside of it. It is unique to have the building where Lee’s Pharmacy was located embossed right on the bottle as well. The Alaska Building was the tallest building in Seattle at the time it was constructed in the early 1900’s! Needless to say, it’s pretty cool to think about what was going on during this time in Seattle and how Lee’s Pharmacy eventually relocated to the Alaska Building after it was constructed.
https://www.rrncommunity.org/items/322301
http://www.sha.org/bottle/pdffiles/WTandCo_BLockhart.pdf
Bottles, Embossing, and (Unidentified) Base Marks– Oh My!
In light of our more recent readings and discussions, wherein the topic of 19th century women and their use of pharmaceuticals arose, I felt it was appropriate to shine the spotlight on this particular item:
Pictured above is a medicinal bottle. The embossed label marks it as a prescription/druggist’s container, and reads: LANG DRUG CO. COLMAN BUILDING, 807 FIRST AVENUE- -SEATTLE WASH. According to the Society for Historical Archaeology, other samples of the same bottle type date to the mid-1880s.
Of particular interest are two embossed marks, one on the shoulder and the other on the base. The first consists of a stylized number “3”, followed by the numerals “vi”. This mark is an indicator of measurement belonging to a system known as the apothecaries’ system. In this case, the stylized “3” stands for ounces, and the “vi” stands for the number six, meaning this particular bottle contained six ounces, or the equivalent of forty-six teaspoons, of some sort of fluid remedy.
The second mark features the letter “M” situated within a diamond shape. Though other marks similar to this one (often a different letter located within the diamond) are recognizable as makers’ marks, this particular letter/shape configuration has yet to be attributed to any manufacturer, though one source dates it at around 1890. Though information about the Lang Drug Company is scarce, one source highlights the company’s move to 807 First Ave. in 1905; this later date might indicate that the bottle was reused since its manufacturing.
Given the bottle’s type and place of origin, it’s not unreasonable to expect that this artifact was once belonged in the medicine cabinet of a household in Seattle, perhaps near what is today Pike Place Market (with 807 First Ave. located roughly eight blocks southeast). Further analysis of the assemblage as a whole will provide a better picture of the deposition context, and will likely contradict such expectations. In any case, it’s far removed from the context of the lives of women in Five Points, New York, though it might raise similar questions as to the lives and livelihoods of those on the opposite coast.
1. For an in-depth guide to medicinal bottles, try the SHA: http://www.sha.org/bottle/medicinal.htm
2. For a shorthand of apothecaries’ style, see http://harmonicatab.org/discussion/121/bottles-marked-with-3iv-and-duraglas
3. A brief note about Lang Drug Company: https://books.google.com/books?id=v0hAAQAAMAAJ&pg=PA336&lpg=PA336&dq=lang+drug+co.+seattle+washington&source=bl&ots=kcmi7unWBt&sig=NhEldesONMUp_Hko4Qxe4bUZPFs&hl=en&sa=X&ei=GHtNVe6jKMvfoATelYGoDQ&ved=0CDUQ6AEwBg#v=onepage&q=lang%20drug%20co.%20seattle%20washington&f=false
4. For more on letter-in-diamond and other maker’s marks: http://www.glassbottlemarks.com/bottlemarks-4/
Theodor(e) Jacobsen (Jacobson?) Observatory
In 1891, Dr Joseph M Taylor built the first observatory on the University of Washington campus. According to the Jacobsen Observatory’s own site (which, interestingly enough is operated outside of the UW site), the first observatory was built by Taylor himself between teaching classes, employing carpenters to build the frame and a mason to professionally mount the telescope. I dearly wish this information was sourced, as it sounds rather too fantastic and anecdotal for my preferences (but then again, maybe maths professors in the late 19th century were super human, I don’t know).
When the University campus moved, less than a decade later, a new observatory was constructed; it was designed by the same architect, Charles Saunders, who designed the Administrative building, now Denny Hall. The Observatory is the second oldest building on campus (in line directly behind Denny Hall) and was build out of the remaining sandstone from the Administrative construction.
In 1912, the water tower that had been near the observatory was converted into a chime tower. This lasted until 1949 when the chime tower was damaged in a fire and was not reconstructed. In 1928, the UW hired one Theodor S. Jacobsen as the astronomy professor. He taught for 37 years as the only astronomy professor at the school.
Even in its earliest state, on the old campus downtown, the observatory has had a goal of reaching out to the public and exposing them to the wonders of the stars (weather permitting of course). This tradition continues even now, the same telescope Dr. Taylor installed in the 1891 observatory (a 6-in refracting Warner & Swasey) that was refurbished in the ‘90s.
The observatory remains on campus, just across from the Burke Museum. The historic building seems, like its older sibling, Denny Hall, lost in time and tucked away in a forgotten corner of the University Campus.
From doing research, the information on a minor building, such as the observatory, seems to be surprisingly difficult to find. I could find a lot of information on the telescope inside the building, articles about the chime tower burning down, and advertisements for sky-viewing within the observatory; but there wasn’t a lot to be gleaned from about the building itself. One source would claim that Dr. Taylor designed the building himself (I guess it was the old, wooden building on the old, downtown campus?), and other than the building being the second oldest on campus that was about it.
Observatories and Instruments: A great piece on a great building. There’s a link to the survey from the ’70s when it was being made a historic building.
Graves and Identity
Social identity is an odd thing. I could get into the details of how fluid a thing it is, but instead I would like to address a specific aspect of identity: social status. In the tradition of social anthropology, there are two distinct types of social statuses—ascribed and achieved. An ascribed status is one we are born with: race, ethnicity, and gender are some examples of such (this is a generalized statement, when decolonizing anthropology, ascribed statuses are NOT an essential part of a person’s identity). An achieved status is precisely as it sounds, the sort of status that can be achieved during one’s lifetime: doctor, high school graduate, dog-owner.
From looking at the data collected from the Calvary Cemetery in Seattle, there are some very interesting things to note about the titles granted to the deceased after their death. Women, buried in this particular cemetery, are far more likely to be identified with ascribed statuses: sister, daughter. There is a fair share of achieved statuses as well, but many of them are mother and wife; domestic-based titles that pair their identity with other people, particularly with a male in their lives. Men’s titles, while not all achieved (there’s a fair amount of brothers and fathers), the larger percentage are identified as doctors or with military ranks. Their identities are independent of anyone else (and certainly not dependent on a woman to create their identities).
All of these are identities that were chosen for the deceased by those who were left behind, generally grave markers are chosen for a person after they have already died. Nearly all of them, even the achieved statuses like doctor and military ranks, while perhaps not dependent on other people, are about relationships, especially with those who are left behind.
Death Through the Ages: Yep, it’s always been a thing
The only time I feel comfortable in large groups of people is when most of them are dead. A couple weeks ago, as I milled through Calvary Cemetery, noting births and deaths, epitaphs and adornments, I reflected on how lucky I was to be doing my favorite kind of activity in my favorite kind of place, and to be getting academic credit for it. Reading the various grave-markers, I made up stories about the lives of all the people interred beneath me; their relationships to one another, how far away their place of birth was from their place of death, and particularly, how did they die? I don’t think anyone can stroll between hundreds of gravestones without wondering how their owners died. For this reason, I focused on death frequencies as I analysed the data collected by myself and my peers at Calvary.
The first thing I looked at was the general death frequencies by year. There are two distinct peaks: one around 1940, and the other within the last five years. Now, I am a bit skeptical as to how meaningful any of the data examined and presented here is meaningful, due to the extremely small sample size. However, another reason I chose to focus on death frequency, was that, although there may have been a selection bias that effected which stones were recorded, the actual dates themselves are reasonably objective. By this I mean that the criteria for what is recorded as “1945” by me is the same criteria that made a colleague record “1945”: the gravestone says the individual whose death it marks died in 1945. Because of this, I feel comfortable making a prediction about the cause of these two spikes in the data, and this prediction is (you guessed it) war.
1940, as we all know, is the beginning of US involvement in World War II. Thousands of soldiers were shipped off, and thousands of soldiers died. I would not be remotely surprised if the cause of the Calvary spike around this period is somehow related to this war.
Now my suggestion for the most recent spike is also related to the war, though perhaps a little further removed: the Baby Boomers are dying. The average lifespan of an adult male is somewhere around 70 years old. After the war, when all those spry sweethearts hopped into the post-war bed they popped out a bunch of babes. Well, these babes are now reaching their seventies, and, statistically, it’s about their time to pop back off.
As I’ve mentioned before, this study came packed with bias and oozing inadequate sample size. I am very curious to see if, upon more detailed and further analysis, these same frequencies would hold true. If they don’t then perhaps they reflect that the areas of the cemetery that we examined were simply utilized the most during the peak time periods because of spatial or organizational issues.
Just for fun, I also looked at the months in which people in the cemetery died and, surprisingly, found that most deaths in our data of both men and women occurred between July-August. My only hypothesis for this is extremely unscientific: perhaps, after the cold Seattle winter, perhaps they just couldn’t take the heat.