New Artifacts Donated to Social History Collection Have Interesting Stories To Tell
Two fascinating cutting implements, both made of brass but used in very different ways, were recently donated to our Social History collection. By coincidence, a third donation, was a book that laid out the conditions under which one of these tools was to be used. All three items came from individuals with a long history at The Manitoba Museum.
The first artifact is a small, triple-bladed object that folds together like a jackknife. It was donated by Museum Animator Gary Peak, who found it at a Winnipeg garage sale ten years ago. Gary joined the Museum’s Education Department in 2003, following a 30-year career in Special Education. As a Museum interpreter, Gary spends a lot of time looking at and explaining artifacts. This one confounded him, and so he purchased the ten-cent item and began a decade-long quest to discover its identity.
Last fall, leafing through a copy of The Great Northwest Fur Trade – a material culture, 1763 – 1850 by Ryan R. Gale outside the Museum gift shop, Gary finally found an answer. On page 118 of the beautifully illustrated book was a four-bladed version of his garage sale find – an early 19th century bloodletting instrument known as a fleam.
Research by cataloguer Ann Hindley showed that Gary’s fleam was made some time after 1871. It was inscribed with the name of its manufacturer, Joseph Rodgers & Sons, and the company trademark of a star and Maltese cross. The company was founded in Sheffield, England in 1682, as Joseph Rodgers, and expanded in 1871 to become Joseph Rodgers & Sons.
Bloodletting - or phlebotomy - originated in ancient Greece and Egypt some 2,500 years ago. It was practised, using a variety of implements, to treat all kinds of illnesses in humans and animals. Bloodletting was based on the belief that sickness was the result of an imbalance in the body’s various bodily fluids, or “humours” - and that releasing a quantity of blood could restore good health.
The sharp-edged fleam was placed over a large vein - usually the jugular - and struck with a fleam stick to quickly penetrate the blood vessel with minimal risk to the operator or to the animal. Once the prescribed amount of blood was drained from the patient, the incision was closed with a pin and secured with thread.
The practise of bloodletting came into question by the second half of the 19th century, with the discovery of germs as a cause of illness. However, the existence of artifacts like this fleam suggests that it continued much later. Gradually, however, the use of such instruments was confined to lancing the skin to drain boils and other infections.
The second cutting tool donated to the Museum last fall came from Florence Zawislak, who has volunteered with the Palaeontology department since 1981. Florence explained that, for years family members used this brass implement to scrape mud from their boots when they came indoors. During the Second World War, however, it had a very different purpose, for it was used at the Transcona cordite plant- a highly secretive and dangerous explosives manufacturing facility that operated from 1941-1945.
The cordite knife has no markings and is made from a single piece of solid brass. It has an oval-shaped handle with an indented channel on each side, used for gripping, and a curved blade with a thick, dull cutting edge.
At one time the knife belonged to Florence’s father-in-law, Sebastian Zawislak. Mr. Zawislak was a Polish immigrant who arrived in Canada with his brothers at the outset of the Great War. He tried to join the Canadian Expeditionary Force and fight overseas in 1914, but was turned down because Canada was at war with his homeland.
When the Second World War broke out in 1939, Zawislak again offered to serve his country but this time in a different way. In 1940, the British and Canadian governments collaborated and invested 20 million dollars to construct a munitions plant - Defense Industries Limited - just east of the town of Transcona. At its peak the facility - located at the northeast corner of Highways 15 and 207 - employed some 2,460 men and women who worked with cellulose nitrate, nitro-glycerine, and mineral jelly in the manufacture of an explosive substance called cordite.
Zawislak was hired as a labourer at the cordite plant. Like his co-workers, he arrived for his 12-hour shift each day via a special train that transported people and explosive materials past a towering wire fence patrolled by armed guards. When the war ended, Zawislak helped with the final clean up of the 1,000-acre site and its various munitions shops. He was one of the last workers to leave the facility, and he brought the knife home with him as a memento.
A third item donated to the Social History collections this fall came from long-time volunteer Ed Dobrzanski. Ed began assisting in the Palaeontology Department in 1992, but he has a keen interest in material culture and has helped in the Social History department as well, donating and identifying artifacts.
Ed’s last donation was a small hardcover book that originally belonged to his father. Entitled General and Special Rules – Defense Industries Limited, this book was issued to individuals who were employed at the Transcona cordite plant. The book was published in Montreal in 1941, and outlines the strict conditions of employment that were enforced at the plant in the interests of physical safety and wartime security.
Employees were forbidden to bring cameras to the site or to discuss what went on there with others. Great care had to be taken to prevent fires and explosions. Ferrous metals that might cause sparks, like steel and pig iron, were forbidden at the site and special clothing, handling, and cleaning procedures were required to limit the risk inherent in manufacturing explosives.
Ed’s father worked in the mixing shed, combining cellulose nitrate, nitro-glycerine, and mineral jelly in large mixers to make cordite paste. The exact composition, Ed explained, was determined according to the specific use intended for each batch. Once mixed, chunks of the pliable cordite were cut off and sent to another work area to be extruded through dies, like pasta dough going through a spaghetti press. Long strings of cordite were made this way and then cut to size and dried for later use inside a shell. It is possible that Peter sometimes used a cordite knife like the one seen here, salvaged by his co-worker, Sebastian Zawislak.
By Social History Curator Sharon Reilly
