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marrythebed and S. during their stay in Toronto told them about an excavation at the Grange House at the AGO, so yesterday we went to check it out.
"Object 17" can be seen just above the pole. It is a long red braid of hair and a deer bone encased in wax and buried in a hole in a brick, which Mary likely dug with a spoon.
It's a fascinating story that deserves to be a novel. The Grange was built in 1817, making it the oldest brick home in Canada. In 1828, the wealthy landowners took on a maid, 17-year-old Irish spinster Mary O'Shea.
Most of what we know about Mary comes from the papers of the Grange's long-serving butler, Henry Whyte (1793-1880), who appeared to be fascinated by her and nicknamed her Amber. One of her jobs was to collect the beeswax from candles that had burnt out, and bring them to the vat to be melted down to be made into new candles. Henry noticed that some of the wax was, well, missing, and later discovered Mary hiding a small object under the floorboards. It seemed that Mary had a habit of encasing small objects—hair, fingernail clippings, animal bones, porcelain dolls, her letters from Ireland—in wax and clay, and then hiding them all around the house.
There are several competing theories as to why she would do this. There is little evidence to support the most obvious, which was that it was part of some religious or superstitious ritual. Another is that she was mentally ill or suffering from PTSD. She was isolated as the lowest of the low in the servant hierarchy, and a Gaelic speaker, and seems to have lost most or all of her family in the Potato Famine. Here are excerpts from letters sent to her:
The most likely theory, though, is that she was a frustrated artist. The place where she worked in secret looks very much like a sculptor's studio, with bags of clay hanging from the ceiling, tools to one side, and half-completed globules on the other.
The most interesting piece to me was a stack of Mary's letters, wrapped with twine, and encased in wax. They're illegible. For one thing, they're in Gaelic, and no one's handwriting is particularly neat. The practice at the time was for the first correspondent to write normally, and then the recipient would turn the letter to the side and respond by writing between the original lines, perpendicular to them. Which sounds vaguely familiar—I think I've heard of this before.
At any rate, if you live in Toronto it's worth checking out.
All of this is to say, of course, that we got to see a clay bowl full of pubic hair from the 1800s.
EDIT: Ah, it's a hoax. Apparently this is old news. Oh well, it's a really great art piece, in that case.
marrythebed and S. during their stay in Toronto told them about an excavation at the Grange House at the AGO, so yesterday we went to check it out. "Object 17" can be seen just above the pole. It is a long red braid of hair and a deer bone encased in wax and buried in a hole in a brick, which Mary likely dug with a spoon.
It's a fascinating story that deserves to be a novel. The Grange was built in 1817, making it the oldest brick home in Canada. In 1828, the wealthy landowners took on a maid, 17-year-old Irish spinster Mary O'Shea.
Most of what we know about Mary comes from the papers of the Grange's long-serving butler, Henry Whyte (1793-1880), who appeared to be fascinated by her and nicknamed her Amber. One of her jobs was to collect the beeswax from candles that had burnt out, and bring them to the vat to be melted down to be made into new candles. Henry noticed that some of the wax was, well, missing, and later discovered Mary hiding a small object under the floorboards. It seemed that Mary had a habit of encasing small objects—hair, fingernail clippings, animal bones, porcelain dolls, her letters from Ireland—in wax and clay, and then hiding them all around the house.
There are several competing theories as to why she would do this. There is little evidence to support the most obvious, which was that it was part of some religious or superstitious ritual. Another is that she was mentally ill or suffering from PTSD. She was isolated as the lowest of the low in the servant hierarchy, and a Gaelic speaker, and seems to have lost most or all of her family in the Potato Famine. Here are excerpts from letters sent to her:
[...] we are Badly of Just now and only for your Aunt that Gets the Little washing weCowould not be to gathr Now myself is in the Mill Earning Littel or Nothing your Two sisters is in the Convent School you Poor old Grand Mother sends Her Love and Blessing to you Hoping you will not For Get Her as She Never wanted more [...]
...
[...] you wish to Know the Particulars About your fathers Death I am sorry for to have To tell you He Died on the 27 July 1849 and your Poor Mother About 3 weeks After which was an is a very Great Loss to us. Mary Darby also died also Died a short time after which Left us worse [...]
The most likely theory, though, is that she was a frustrated artist. The place where she worked in secret looks very much like a sculptor's studio, with bags of clay hanging from the ceiling, tools to one side, and half-completed globules on the other.
The most interesting piece to me was a stack of Mary's letters, wrapped with twine, and encased in wax. They're illegible. For one thing, they're in Gaelic, and no one's handwriting is particularly neat. The practice at the time was for the first correspondent to write normally, and then the recipient would turn the letter to the side and respond by writing between the original lines, perpendicular to them. Which sounds vaguely familiar—I think I've heard of this before.
At any rate, if you live in Toronto it's worth checking out.
All of this is to say, of course, that we got to see a clay bowl full of pubic hair from the 1800s.
EDIT: Ah, it's a hoax. Apparently this is old news. Oh well, it's a really great art piece, in that case.
