Mudlarking: A Thread Through Time
By Jason Sandy
Anna’s pin collection (Anna Borzello).
Along the exposed riverbed at low tide, it is difficult to spot the smallest artifacts because they are camouflaged among the stones, broken glass, and rusty ironwork. I wear sturdy knee pads and gloves so I can crawl on my hands and knees, searching for these little, evasive treasures such as brass pins.
Pins lying on the foreshore (Jason Sandy).
When you first start mudlarking, it takes a while to “get your eye in” and spot these tiny pins. After you find the first one, you start to notice them everywhere.
Over the years, pins have been washed out of drains and were dropped as people got in and out of boats. Several mudlarks are obsessed with collecting brass pins, and they can spend hours bent over picking them up. Since she began mudlarking in 2015, Anna Borzello has patiently and painstakingly collected over 15,000 pins (top) from the Thames. “I remember the wonder of finding my first pin on the foreshore—it felt brilliantly incongruous that something so domestic and so tiny was lying in such abundance in the mud in Central London. I like the dreamy, meditative feel of picking up the pins,” describes Anna.
Left to right: Spheric pin cushion with Thames pins (Charlie Dixon). Post-medieval pins in a Victorian pin cushion shoe (Florrie Evans). A bundle of 61 brass pins (PAS).
Other mudlarks such as Florrie Evans and Charlie Dixon also have large collections of handmade pins of all shapes and sizes, which they have beautifully displayed in pin cushions at home. Florrie’s Victorian pin cushion is in the shape of an elegant woman’s shoe. The post-medieval pins within the 19th-century pin cushion are a beautiful combination.
Long before the invention of zippers and Velcro, pins were used to hold all types of garments and headwear together. “Pins tell the history of modern England—from the method of production to the history of dress. They were once such high-end, luxury items, bequeathed in wills, and owned only by the rich. Now pins are mass-produced and barely merit a second thought. I calculated that in the 15th century you could buy 30 sheep for 100 pins,” explains Anna. The elaborate dresses of Queen Elizabeth I were held together with thousands of pins.
In the 14th century, the English parliament passed an act restricting the pin maker to only sell his pins on the first two days of January of each year in order to limit the sale of these “luxuries.” Well-to-do ladies flocked to buy them with so-called “pin money” given to them by their husbands or families. When pins became more plentiful and cheaper, ladies bought other luxuries with their pin money—a term which still exists in the English language to this day.
The pin-making industry was a very important and lucrative business for many centuries in England. Hundreds of thousands of pins were exported all over the world. To regulate the trade and quality of the pins, the Worshipful Company of Pinmakers was founded in the 14th century in London.
Pins were made by hand, and there were approximately 18 different steps in producing a single pin. They were created by drawing brass wire through a die to the required length. It was cut and sharpened at one end, and the head was formed by coiling finer wire around the other end. In the last step of the process, the brass pins were polished to create a golden appearance. They were often sold in bunches, and several mudlarks have found intact bunches of pins on the foreshore which are still bound together with brass wire.
A pinner’s bone (Malcolm Russell).
To create a sharp tip at the end of the pin, animal bones were cut and notched with parallel grooves. The brass wire was placed in the groove of the notched bone and sharpened to a point using a file. Malcolm Russell and several other mudlarks have found so-called pinners’ bones in the river.
Left to right: Iron Age bronze pin (PAS). Roman bronze pin (PAS). Anglo-Saxon brass pin (PAS).
Pins were not only used for utilitarian purposes. They were transformed into decorative objects which were worn as fashion accessories and to display one’s wealth. One of the earliest ornate pins found by a mudlark in the Thames dates to the Iron Age. The bronze pin (above left) from 500–200 BC is 154mm (6 inches) long and tapers to a point. The disc-shaped head has a ridge around the perimeter with a decorative rib above and below. Although missing now, either enamel or coral would have been placed in the hollow top of the pin head.
Many decorative pins have been discovered from the Roman period. A beautiful example (above center) is 119mm (4.7 inches) long and is made of bronze. It has a globular head which is inlaid with enamel. In the center, there is a circular bronze ring containing white enamel surrounded by a ring of red enamel. Around the perimeter of the red enamel, there are seven evenly spaced grooves cut into the smooth, bronze disc.
Dating to AD 720–850, a brass Anglo-Saxon pin (above right) was found in the Thames. It is 62mm (2.4 inches) long. The head is subtly faceted and decorated with ring and dot motifs. A circular collar is located at the junction between the pin head and the circular shaft.
Above left: Tudor gold pin (Stuart Wyatt). Above right: 16th-century gold pin (PAS).
The Tudors especially liked their decorative pins, and some of them are beautiful works of art. A few years ago, Stuart Wyatt found an exquisite gold pin (above left) from the 16th century. The pin head is decorated with four circular features formed by semi-circular rings around a central globe. The ornamentation resembles miniature Tudor ruffs, which were fashionable in the 16th century.
Malcolm Duff also discovered a beautiful gold pin (above right) dating to the 16th–17th centuries. Measuring 32mm (1.3 inches) in length, the pin has a globular head and a shank with a square cross-section which has been twisted to create an elegant effect. Surrounded within twisted wire rings, filigree circular pellets adorn the pin head.
Bottom: Highly decorated gold pin head (PAS).
Several years ago, John Mills discovered one of the most remarkable pieces of Tudor gold in the Thames. It is an extremely ornate pin head. Although it is only 11mm (0.4 inches) in diameter, it is highly decorated with applied filigree circlets and knops. Set with small turquoise gemstones, the flower heads are surrounded by petals of gold, openwork decoration made of fine twisted wire. Only a wealthy aristocrat or member of the royal family could have afforded this expensive gold pin which has been acquired by the Museum of London. The extraordinarily fine details of these delicate pins display the skilled workmanship of the Tudor craftsmen.
Left to right: Fox head pin (Marie-Louise Plum). Carved bone needles (Giovanni Forlino, PAS). Georgian ivory needle case (Florrie Evans).
For centuries, pins continued to be worn as fashion accessories. Marie-Louise Plum discovered a beautiful brass pin (above left) from the early 20th century. The pewter top of the pin is formed in the shape of a fox’s head with eyes wide open, a long, tapering nose, and pointed, upright ears.
Clothwork and needlework were thriving industries in England for many centuries, and needles were important tools of the workers. Originally, bone needles would have been used with thick thread to sew coarse, woolen fabrics together, and were also utilized for leatherwork. Over the years, mudlarks have recovered a wide variety of bone needles (above center) from the Thames. Brass needles have also been found, which are much thinner and sharper for precise and delicate needlework.
A few years ago, Florrie Evans discovered a rare, ivory needle case (above right) carved from an elephant tusk. Dating to the 18th century, it has a hollow, tapered body with a removable, domed lid. The finial at the top is carved in the shape of a miniature beehive.
Carved bone bodkin with ear scoop (Monika Buttling-Smith).
Known as a lacing or threading needle, a bodkin is a sharp slender instrument used to make holes in cloth. On the Thames foreshore, Monika Buttling-Smith discovered a well-preserved bodkin carved from animal bone. Dating to the 17th century, the bodkin is 90mm (3.5 inches) long and has a rectangular slot through which ribbon would be drawn. The terminal has been delicately carved into a rounded, concave ear scoop. Wax would be extracted from the ear and applied to the end of a thread or ribbon to prevent it from fraying.
Post-medieval silver and brass bodkins (Florrie Evans, Giovanni Forlino, PAS).
In the 16th and 17th centuries, it was fashionable for women to wear bodkins in their hair. It was also a convenient way of carrying this multi-purpose tool. Florrie Evans found an ornate bodkin (far left) made of brass. The body of the bodkin has a thin, rectangular cross section, and the tip tapers to a point. The head is shaped like a small scallop shell, which would have been visible when the bodkin was used to secure a woman’s hair in place.
A stunning silver bodkin (near left) was discovered by Giovanni Forlino in January 2022. Dating to 1625–1650, the bodkin has a decorative finial in the shape of an ear scoop. Along the length of the pin, the body has been engraved with various shapes created with delicate, incised lines. A long, stemmed flower with petals and diamond-shaped head is depicted above the rectangular ribbon slot. The letters “E N” are formed with small dots, which are presumably the maker’s or owner’s initials.
Above left: Medieval brass handmade thimble (Jason Sandy). Above right: Medieval and post-medieval thimbles (Jason Sandy).
Early one morning as I was mudlarking in Central London, I discovered a large, brass thimble dating to the 15th century. Each individual dimple on the surface has been meticulously stamped by hand. Some of the irregular holes were accidentally punched through the thin sheet of domed brass.
Thimble designs throughout the ages from the PAS (collage by Jason Sandy).
Over the years, I have found many thimbles. They are in great condition and are still fit for purpose. It is a very satisfying experience to pluck an old thimble from the mud and put it on your finger, knowing that the previous owner lived hundreds of years ago.
Worn to protect the fingertip from being pricked by a needle while sewing, the design of thimbles has changed very little over the years. Mudlarks have discovered a wide variety of brass and silver thimbles (next page) which are beautifully decorated with various patterns and motifs. Some of the most exquisite thimbles were made in Nuremberg, Germany, which was a well-known center of thimble production in the 16th–17th centuries. Thimbles were not only a utilitarian object, they were also produced to commemorate events and even given as love tokens.
Iron Age weaving comb (PAS).
Since at least the Iron Age, people have been weaving along the Thames. Dating to 400–100 BCE, John Dunford recovered an extraordinary weaving comb from the river which has been carved from bone. It would have been used to comb the threads into position on a loom.
In the Middle Ages, the wool trade was the backbone and driving force of the English economy. Wool became the principal export to mainland Europe, which relied on the quality of fine English wool. European weavers were willing to pay top prices for it. By the end of the 15th century, England dominated the global wool market. In the 16th century, cloth represented 90% of England’s exports and remained the main export until the Industrial Revolution.
At the height of the wool and cloth trade, London controlled almost 80% of these exports. In London, many companies flourished and became very wealthy through the wool and cloth trade. The Worshipful Company of Clothworkers and the Worshipful Company of Drapers (wool and cloth merchants) amassed great wealth and power by the end of the 16th century. The Drapers were granted a monopoly of the retail sale of woolen cloth in London and set the standards for the trade.
Post-medieval spindle whorls (PAS).
Mudlarks have found evidence of the weaving and cloth making trades in London. Loom weights and spindle whorls have been recovered from the exposed riverbed. Spindle whorls are circular discs fixed to a wooden stick and were used for winding yarn using a spinning motion. Dating between 1450–1550, several spindle whorls made of glazed stoneware have been discovered. They have convex sides and flat upper and lower surfaces and are decorated with bands of horizontal, incised lines. They range in diameter between 23–27mm (0.9–1.1 inches) and were probably imported to London from Langewehe, Belgium.
Above left: Two-part cloth seal (Tony Thira). Above center: Collection of lead seals (Jason Sandy). Above right: Cloth seal from Colchester (Dave Hiddleston).
Wool exports began to be taxed in the 13th century, followed by cloth exports in the 14th century. As proof that the correct tax had been paid, lead seals were attached to cloth as a means of identification, regulation, and quality control of cloth between the 13th and 18th centuries. Appointed by the government, “alnagers” were officials who assessed the quality and measurements of every cloth and ensured that the appropriate tax had been paid. To uphold the outstanding reputation of English cloth, they had the authority to search and confiscate cloth that did not comply with the high-quality standards. Until 1724, it was illegal to sell cloth in England without an alnage seal fixed to it.
There were mainly two different types of cloth seals—two-disc (above left) and four-disc seals which were joined by a connecting strip. One disc had a rivet, and one had a hole. They were folded together at the edge of the cloth and hammered together with a die, which stamped information into the surface of the lead disc. The seals were often stamped with the mark or sign of the county, city, or borough where the cloth was made. Other stamps on seals depicted the initials and busts of English monarchs, coat of arms, shields, crowns, roses, and fleur-de-lis. Animals, floral patterns, and other symbols were also stamped on the seals. The maker’s name, initials, personal symbols, and value of the cloth appear on some cloth seals. Over the years, I have found a wide variety of lead seals (above center) in the Thames.
One of the most interesting cloth seals (above right) was found by Dave Hiddleston. It is a large four-disc cloth seal from Colchester and stamped with the date 1618 and inscription “ENGLISH COLCHESTER SAYE.” A cross and three coronets appear within an ornate shield in the center. Although it is missing now, a large disc on the back of the cloth seal depicted Colchester castle with a soldier standing in its doorway. Arriving as religious refugees in Colchester between 1565–1570, Dutch immigrants were among the most successful manufacturers of cloth in England in the late 16th–17th centuries. According to Stuart Elton, author of the book Cloth Seals: An Illustrated Reference Guide to the Identification of Lead Seals Attached to Cloth, this lead seal “was actually made by the native English Colchester weavers, who did not have the skills of the immigrants but envied the prices and markets they commanded, and so set about producing impressive seals that they knew would be confused with the Dutch Colchester’s own saye seals and would lead to more money!”
Some of the smallest objects found on the Thames foreshore tell the biggest success stories of Britain’s global trade. Pins and needles, along with bodkins, thimbles, spindle whorls, and cloth seals reveal the importance of the wool and cloth exports to the British economy for many centuries. In England, entire towns aptly named “wool towns” were built around the wool trade. Beautiful “wool churches” were built solely from the proceeds of the lucrative wool trade. London also prospered and amassed a great wealth by shipping wool and cloth abroad from the River Thames.
Join Jason for a half-hour video beachcombing trip to some of his favorite spots on the River Thames, where he finds treasures buried for centuries in the London mud. He also shares some of his favorite pieces in his extensive collection of finds from prehistory through modern times.
Learn more about mudlarking
Learn more about the experiences of mudlarks, who search the shores of rivers, bays, and seas for historical finds and other objects. Articles ›
Mudlarking on the Thames Foreshore requires a permit. Learn about rules for mudlarking in London ›
This article appeared in Beachcombing Magazine Volume 41 March/April 2024.
