There is a rich body of material culture theory that has developed since the middle of the 20th century, offering an array of theoretical perspectives that can
be employed to interrogate the material past; various and sometimes competing strands of thought can be contrasted or combined to encourage a multifaceted view of artefacts. This chapter contextualises the main theoretical approaches that underpin the research presented in subsequent chapters. Central to the work presented in this thesis is the role of material culture within human society, looking at the ways in which people and things interact. Firstly, the importance of the daily interactions of individuals and artefacts is discussed, emphasising the fundamental importance of the role of material culture in how individuals perceive and engage with the world around them. There is an acceptance that the boundaries between material culture and the human self are insubstantial and changeable. As the period of study is situated during an era of rapidly changing economics and material technologies, it is necessary to consider the increasing importance of consumer choice, exploring the production and use of this politicised material culture. This chapter also reflects upon the importance of the biographies of artefacts, leading into a discussion of the ambiguous relationship between artefact and narrative. Finally, it looks at the ways in which a politicised material culture participates in the expression and negotiation of power and authority, and explores how the gendering of material culture can have an impact on interpretation.
Theory is not divorced from the practical experience of everyday life, but rather is woven throughout the interactions of persons and material culture. Likewise, theoretical discussion appears throughout the following chapters, applied to the various themes explored and artefacts examined. While this chapter introduces the main theoretical concepts that will be used throughout the rest of the thesis, these are only the most prominent of the perspectives employed. There is no overarching theorist or theory that informs the research presented in this thesis. Instead, ideas are borrowed from the rich theoretical repertoire of material culture studies to examine a specific set of artefacts: the material
culture of the Jacobite wars, with reflections more generally upon the material culture of conflict and violence.
Before these theories are examined in detail, two definitions for this chapter may be of use in the interest of clarity:
Object. Since it is asserted here that there is no strict break between subject and object, in this thesis the term ‘object’ is simply employed to refer to individual examples of material culture and is used synonymously with artefact. Hodder (1995), for example, makes a minute distinction between objects and things – objects can be removed from their use context and objectified, whilst things are to hand, functional and part of normal day-to-day interactions. This terminological distinction is not made here and objects, items, things, and artefacts are used
interchangeably for the sake of a variety of vocabulary.
Materiality. This is a loaded term at criticised by Ingold (2007) as ill- defined academic jargon, while used by others to denote the social siginificance of artefacts - that is, material culture’s ‘properties ... in relation to people’ (Tilley 2007: 18). In this thesis, the perceived
theoretical tension between the intellectual expression of materiality of artefacts and the practical material properties that constitute them is minimised. Archaeologists, anthropologists, and material culture
specialists (Ingold 2007; Knappett 2007; Miller 2007; Tilley 2007) all agree that any study of material culture must take into account both the
physical properties of artefacts along with their social significance, though they may argue over the semantics of expressing this. The
analysis of the artefacts provided in this thesis is primarily concerned with meaningfully contextualising the artefacts within their contemporary and our modern societies. It is presumed here that material culture is rooted in both the physical and the social. However, as this is not a treatise on the concept of materiality itself, the term ‘materiality’ is employed generically to mean the inalienable physicality of material culture. This is not meant to exacerbate Ingold’s (2007) perceived abstraction of mind from matter, but rather serves as a necessary shorthand term to discuss the tangible physicality of artefacts.
Engaging with artefacts
The daily interactions between people and material culture mean that the separation between the self and objects is elided and ambiguous. This is best articulated by Bourdieu (1977), whose concept of habitus opened up the possibilities inherent in mundane quotidian objects and activities and their ability to express non-discursive individual, social, and cultural interactions. Central to this and most useful to this study is his idea of embodiment, where artefacts act as an extension of the human self. Following on from the theory of embodiment of Bourdieu, the self is extended and thence distributed (Malafouris 2004: 57) through its interaction with objects. Artefacts are, therefore,
inherently meaningful extensions of past individuals (discussed further in
Chapter 5). Scholars like Hodder (1982; 1995), Miller (1998; 2001) and Renfrew (2001; 2004), among many others, have established that material culture is foundational to human society. People’s everyday thoughts and actions are linked to their engagement, to borrow Renfrew’s (2001; 2004) term, with material culture. This material culture is not merely reflective of the human thought process, but rather materials and ideas work in tandem to spur change; they mutually influence and create one another. Artefacts are not solely
representational of values, beliefs and social identity, but also are able to ‘provide essential tools for thought’ (Tilley 2006: 7). This is explored in depth by Knappett (2004; 2008) and Malafouris (2004; 2008), who stress the cognitive functions of material culture – that individuals learn and think through these interactions with objects, as well as relying on objects for mnemonic storage and retrieval (discussed further in Chapter 5). In their 2008 co-edited volume,
Material Agency: Towards a Non-Anthropocentric Approach, Knappett and
Malafouris embrace Latour’s (2005) Actor-Network-Theory. They destabilise the human focus traditionally maintained by archaeologists and instead explore the network of relations between people and the material world. Humans are not only using objects as mnemonic devices or ‘cognitive scaffolding’ (Clark 2008), they argue, but need the balance of the material world to enact their agency; human agency is not independently contained within the body but must engage with the material world to become evident. Malafouris (2008: 22, original emphasis) asserts that, ‘... while agency and intentionality may not be
properties of material engagement, that is, of the grey zone where brain, body and culture conflate’. We think through the creation and manipulation of
things, negotiating our lives alongside material objects, shaping and being shaped by them in return. Thus material culture is not simply a mirror of social behaviour, but is an integral part of human learning and socialising.
Changing materials and changing social practices
To contextualise this within the period of study, a useful example is the material culture of tea and coffee drinking. During the 18th century, society was
undergoing a series of changes which manifested themselves, and were
influenced by, changing material culture. The period of study, 1688-1760, is at the very beginning of this process, when new modes of sociability were just taking root. The most obvious example of 18th-century social innovation is the
custom of tea and coffee drinking. Much work has been done on the material record of household tea-things (Weatherill 1996; Richards 1999). The
widespread adaptation of ceramic tea-things influenced, in turn, the urbane social interactions at the tea table.
Then as now, there was the perception that the sophistication of an individual could be measured through attainable material benchmarks (Buchli 2002). As the consumer market shifted from an emphasis on expensive durable goods to semi-durables like ceramics, it was easier and cheaper than ever before to assemble a personalised collection of commodities. Frangible items may have been less of a long-term investment than plate or pewter, but they were also more frivolous. Ceramics could not be mended, nor broken down for re-use. This exhibited an individual’s financial ability to replace broken goods and perhaps even exemplified a desire for replacement that allowed for consumer novelty (de Vries 2008). Increased accessibility of goods led to the development of the concept of taste. While previously style had been defined by elite courts, the onus of trend-setting moved down the social scale a notch and became more widely applicable to a larger number of social participants. Adam Smith’s view of society as a mirror (Fudge 2009) underscores the importance of contemporary opinion. By owning ceramic tea things, an individual was not only up-to-date on the latest commercial fad, but was also participating in very specific social
interactions meant to define an individual’s place within society. As Pointon asserts, “Tea-drinking is a paradigmatic case of a cultural phenomenon in which economics and performativity are inextricably bound up with representation and self-presentation” (qtd. in Zuroski Jenkins 2009: 84).
The importance of having the appropriate material culture for the tea service cannot be overemphasised. The vogue hot beverages required specialised vessels that would not crack or interfere with the flavour of the expensive
drinks. Imported china allowed the wealthy to partake of the new consumables. Demand for more imported wares soared and manufacturers rushed to create a suitable domestically produced alternative. Here social practice demanded technological change, whilst technological change enabled social practice. Along with tableware, the tables themselves influenced tea-drinking etiquette. Small tea tables offered an intimate space and a new opportunity for sociability that encouraged small-scale socialising. For elites, this provided a different social experience from the traditional elaborate formal dinner. For the middling sorts who could afford the new luxuries, it was a not-yet entrenched social ritual that they could participate in and shape for themselves. The working class could not afford tea or teawares until very late in the 18th century, however, this material culture would have been visible in shop windows, in printed
illustrations like satirical broadsides, as well as in the homes of employers, even if the items themselves were unattainable. Late in the period of study, c. 1740- 50, there were debates as to whether or not the labouring class should be intentionally priced out of the tea market (White 2006). Concerned that participation in the luxury consumer market would inspire irresponsibility and frivolousness, restricting the access to material culture was seen as a potential form of social control.
It was not all intimate socialisation within the home, however; tea and coffee drinking simultaneously provided new, larger-scale public social interactions at purpose-built coffee houses. These new loci of socialisation offered an
alternative to the boisterous tavern. They became places for gentlemen (not ladies) to meet and discuss news, politics and exchange information, and they could also indulge in another luxury – tobacco and snuff. The rise of the
move towards greater dissemination of information via the newspapers and
pamphlets that proliferated throughout Scotland and the rest of the British Isles. Coffeehouses conveniently provided the requisite material culture so that one need not invest in a personal store of tea- and coffee-drinking equipment, as well as providing the venue for a burgeoning culture of public information. Thus tea and coffee drinking required new material culture. This new material culture, in turn, inspired and encouraged new types of social interaction, behaviour, and ways of thinking. The iconic, most well-recognised tradition of the 18th century, so ingrained in modern society, is in fact rooted in a reciprocal relationship with material objects, which were intimately involved in the
development of new social practices. This is but a brief example of one way in which material culture and social practices can mutually inform one another in a reciprocal relationship. It is meant to reinforce the core theoretical tenet in this study: that the interactions between people and artefacts are important and have the ability to transform one another.
Historical theoretical context
It is not anachronistic to think of late-17th- and early-18th-century material
culture as being as firmly entrenched in everyday life as it is in the 21st century. Buchli (2002: 3) sees the Enlightenment as a key period in the history of material culture, characterising it as a time when there is a distinct ‘preoccupation with the materiality of social life’. There was a philosophical dialogue concerning the nature of artistic creation in the face of proto-industrialisation. Philosophers like Diderot, along with Swedenborg and slightly later Kant, pondered the praxis of art, and the empirical speculation of Bacon inspired Enlightenment thinkers to separate the practical experience of creating from theorisation (de Certeau 1988). Since an artisan used practice-based skills to create an item, it was postulated, this form of production was a purely practical experience divorced from theory. Reflection was not required; artisanal skill was imbedded,
unconscious knowledge – perhaps not even recognised as true knowledge (ibid.). With a theoretical understanding of how an item was made, a machine could be constructed, but the technical knowledge of how to manufacture an object did not automatically result in the creation of a perfect object. Human interference
and adjustment were inevitably needed. There was an acknowledgement that human skill and experience were needed to craft objects and intellectuals like Wolff and Swedenborg became preoccupied with reconciling the balance of art and theory (ibid.). The result was the concept of the engineer, the so-called “third-man” (qtd. in de Certeau 1988: 69) who successfully combined practical and theoretical knowledge. It is easiest to return once more to porcelain as a readily available example of this. The advances in ceramic technology during the period of study, argues Batchelor (2006), resulted in a hybrid of nature and science. Porcelain was engineered from an earthy raw material which was subjected to a rigorous scientific process, epitomising an Enlightenment ideal of achieving a balance between theory and practice.
Throughout the period of study, just as now, there was a continued effort to deconstruct and understand human interactions with material goods, questioning the nature of human creativity, knowledge, and know-how. These theoretical debates about the nature of producing material culture - of artistic
intentionality - have serious implications for the ways in which contemporaries would have viewed 18th-century material culture. If one’s perspective was that
craft knowledge was deeply embedded and unintentional, then the symbolic and ideological effects of objects could be minimised. For example, a politicised artefact could be considered as less meaningful in its own period if its original creation was not seen as an act of conscious intent. Later theorists, like those already discussed previously in this chapter, have refined the 18th-century theories, and in modern material culture studies the unintentionality of craftsmanship is valued. When discussing the artefacts of the Jacobite era, however, it is worth being mindful of the subtle differences in the contemporary and modern approaches to the material world.
Maintaining a focus on the material
Though much of the discussion in this chapter focuses on the theoretical and social implications of material culture, it is equally important to consider their practical material realities. Theorising a true engagement between humans and material culture necessitates a balanced treatment of the symbolic potential of artefacts alongside their physicality and functionality (Boivin 2004; Hurcombe
2007). Understanding the tactility of artefacts and engaging with the very materiality of material culture separates archaeological enquiry from that of other disciplines. The pleasure of the sheen and glint of a glazed ceramic vessel in the firelight and their semi-durability should be taken into account along with any interpretations of iconographic or assumed symbolic socio-cultural
significance. Likewise the texture and weight of tartan should be acknowledged alongside its associations with masculine militarism. These pieces of material culture are not just abstract concepts, but tangible, functional items with which people interacted every day. It is therefore important to afford their
materiality the same amount of attention and significance as their theoretical symbolic characteristics. Throughout subsequent chapters, as various types of artefacts are presented for discussion, both their symbolic and tactile qualities will be explored.
Meaningful consumer choices
The period of study encompasses a time when the consumer market was rapidly expanding in Britain (Overton et al. 2004). As goods became increasingly more affordable and more widely available, the concept of mass consumerism led to discernible consternation amongst leading intellectuals. Firstly, there was a problematic relationship with the idea of luxury in the 17th century. Luxury, it was thought, encouraged idleness but also provided the necessary leisure time to contemplate and improve oneself (de Vries 2008). The interpretation of luxury began to change as an urban merchant class slowly supplanted the traditional aristocratic royal courts of Europe as trendsetters in consumer
fashion. Comfort and pleasure came to be preferred over the grandiose material displays of the most restricted elite circles (ibid.). The focus of the consumer market shifted away from the highly expensive, unattainable goods to more accessible yet still indulgent items.
This preoccupation with the perceived ills of luxury carried on into the 18th
century. One particular topic of contention was whether or not the
participation of the lower class in a consumer economy would be beneficial or detrimental to society. For some there was the fear that increased luxury goods would lead to personal and moral frivolity, while others, like Defoe (1728, in
White 2006) argued that the lower class had a real contribution to make to a growing consumer market and that both would mutually benefit from their economic participation.
The importance of exploring the use of material culture in the Jacobite period relies heavily on Miller’s (1987; 1998; 2001) examinations of the anthropological significance of material culture and the nuances of everyday production and consumption. The manufacture and circulation of politicised material culture - whether it be Jacobite, Williamite, or Hanoverian - offers important information about the socio-political environment of late-17th- and early-18th-century
Scotland. Quantifying the amounts of politicised material culture in circulation does not directly equate to political or military support, instead the existence of a market for such goods can be used to infer the politicisation of society. It is assumed in this thesis that individuals who crafted, commissioned, or curated politicised artefacts had an emotional investment in the causes that these artefacts espoused. Owning an object with Jacobite symbolism, for example, did not necessarily equate to staunch Jacobitism. It cannot be assumed that all owners of Jacobite artefacts engaged in openly rebellious activity, but it is safe to ascribe to them some sort of sympathy for the exiled Stuarts. Politicised artefacts supporting the Jacobite, Williamite, or Hanoverian causes were highly visible in their own time and remain so today as popular features of museum collections. Furthermore, a robust market for these artefacts exists at auction houses and amongst private collectors, their marketability suggesting a