Washerwomen as part of larger Landscapes.

In renaissance art laundresses are often part of a larger scene, a backdrop to more important views or activities. Work has to be done, clothes need to be cleaned, but as a subservient activity, not worthy of much detail. Which is telling of the way washerwomen would have been treated: for instance in Renaissance Italy to be called a son of a lavandaia (washerwoman) was a career killer, and while clean laundry was regarded as proper in renaissance Dutch, the squalor and mess of dirty laundry was not to be associated with!

 

River valley lined with castles on hilltops; after Mirou; in foreground a man holding an axe greeting a figure on horseback; a maid crossing a footbridge with a small herd of cows; and a washerwoman in right foreground; from a series of six large landscapes after Mirou and Paul Bril. 

German, c.1620-22. Etching, by Matthäus Merian I.

The courtyard of a farm with, in the centre, a man addressing an old woman gathering firewood; three women washing laundry under the porch of the building on the left.

French, ca.1620-40. Etching by François Collignon.

Village, with, on the left carriage approaching the entrance of a castle; in the middle, man at fountain; on the right, washerwoman washing laundry in a pond. 

French, ca.1620-37. Etching by Nicolas de Son.

Plate 6: Landscape with a peasant crossing a bridge at centre, some village-houses and a chariot at left, two washerwomen in lower left corner, a road with figures at right, a city in far distance; second state with publisher's address; after Adriaen van Nieulandt. 

Dutch, ca.1629-52. Etching by Pieter Nolpe.

 

A classical landscape with in the left foreground a man and a woman walking on a road, preceeded by a boy (Cupid?) carrying a quiver and a spear); nearby, at left, a man addresses another, who sits on a stone; beyond, a river, with washerwomen on the right. 

French, ca.1660-1700. Etching, Anonymous.

 

The summer-house of Cuniberto de Wenzelsberg. Landscape with a large house and gardens decorated with statues in the centre, a brook with several washerwomen and horsemen in the foreground; a banner held by storks with dedication in the top right corner; second state with
retouchings added in the sky and in the foreground. 

Dutch, 1664. Etching and engraving by Jan van Ossenbeeck.

Landscape with a meandering river at left, three washerwomen on the river-bank, a bridge with some houses on either side beyond, a mountain in far distance; after Titian. 

Italian, 1682. Etching by Valentin Lefebre.

All images royalty free from the British Museum Image Database. 

Ashenburg, Katherine. The Dirt on Clean, an Unsanitized History. North Point Press, NY, 2007: p.110.

Biow, Douglas. The Culture of Cleanliness in Renaissance Italy. Cornell University Press, NY, 2006: p.125..

From Split Log to Bow Stave, The Last Day.

– my adventures at the two and a half day Bow Making Workshop at Primitive Pursuits in upstate Arnot Forest during prime fall colors…

By Elska á Fjárfella of the Dominion of Myrkfaelinn.

The third day started cloudy and quickly turned into drizzle. Even though we worked outdoors for most of the workshop, we fortunately had the luxury of a roofed pavilion, courtesy of Cornell University’s Arnot Teaching & Research Forest, as getting the bow staves wet or even damp should be avoided (I’d brought mine home to stay the night in the car, instead of all alone under the pavilion.). Moisture can swell the wood and make it harder or inconsistent to work with, as one of the students found out the hard way after she got some raindrops on one of the limbs. For our tillering convenience, the instructors had come up with an ingenious clamp system to secure the bow stave out of some rope and 2×4’s, which I duplicated at home the following week. I don’t think it will be used only for bow making!

Clamp in use. Basically, it’s made up of a flat piece of 2×4 with a small cut out and two pegs at the other side (behind bow). A rope loop is placed through the cut out (helps wedge the stave tight to the wood pegs) and a piece of 2×2 or 2×3 is pushed through the bottom of the rope loop. With your hand push this lever down and secure the tension with in a piece of scrap wood wedged in between. Do not hammer the scrap wood in; it clamps better if pushed down by hand.

After we had carefully hacked out the main shape with the hatchet, while staying about 1/8th of an inch away from all pencil marks, the bow was now ready for rasping and scraping. Using one of the clamp stations, I clamped down my bow and with a farrier’s hoof rasp started scraping off all tool marks right up to the pencil marks, leveled the back of the limbs, and shaped the handle. Most important in this stage is to keep checking progress so as to not go too fast, and to check both edges for symmetry (one limb side should not higher or lower than the other). The limbs are only as thick as their thinnest part, and special care needs to be taken in this regard, especially where the handle tapers off into the limb. From there on it’s pretty simple. The widest and thickest part of the limb is right at the taper of the handle, and from there the shape should gradually get narrower and thinner up to about halfway, to then thicken again to compensate for the skinny tapered tip design. Using mostly my fingers I would run them up and down the limb and feel for thickness irregularities, especially around the knots, and carefully rasp and later scrape them down. The thinnest part of the limb is about halfway, which is where most energy is stored, and therefore the most bend should happen when pulled back to fire.

The thinner middle in this drawing is exaggerated to give you the general idea.

Instructor Sean marking the belly of my bow.

From this time on, the instructors were kept busy and would regularly swing by to check our bows, adding crosses to show where to stay away and squiggles where more wood needed to be removed. This step was quite a challenge as it is hard to see; the differences are minute and were mostly only ‘visible’ by touch. It sure helped that I have experience throwing pottery, as that’s all about seeing with your fingertips too! Interestingly, as our instructors would remind us now and then, we’re still not making a bow – we’re making a bow shaped sculpture! Not until the tillering stage, where the limbs are starting to get flexed, is the bow sculpture slowly transforming into a bow.

Hard at work rasping and shaping the sides and handle of the bow ‘sculpture’.

It’s starting to look like something!

When the limbs of the bow finally start to have a little bend, as tested by gently bending, it finally is tillering time! The first tentative bending is done by putting the tip on something solid like a concrete floor, pushing away on the handle with one hand (and that elbow braced on your hip if needed) – nowhere else – and steadying the upper tip with the other: the wood remembers stress and the wrong pressure in the wrong place can permanently alter the flex of the limb! Now the rasp gets put away and the scraping knife is put to good use. We used knives similar to carving knives, fairly long but with a slight burr added to one edge for efficient scraping. And once again, all tool marks, now from the rasp, are carefully removed and the backs of the limbs are smoothed out. Then it is a matter of carefully removing layers of wood from the belly of the limbs until they started bending more and more, and more evenly. Also at this time we made a bowstring using the Flemish twist technique, and added nock points to the bow tips with a small saw (handmade by three hacksaw blades taped together). Carving or filing nock points works as well; just don’t carve into the back of the bow, only the sides and belly. The string would still be fairly long, so the bow bends shallowly and gently gets accustomed to becoming a bow.

Knock points are added and string is made

With each removal & tillering check, we would string the bow and flex it shallowly about thirty times to exercise the stave so the wood becomes used to the flexing and compression needed for proper bow function. This exercise is also important as the changes just made with scraping take a while for the wood to remember and might not show up in the next tillering if proper exercise is omitted. We tillered both using a tillering stick, and with the help of our instructors and fellow students by putting a foot on the string and pulling the bow stave up while they would squat in front, look & critique. It was very instructive to see many types of trees and bow shapes and strengths and see how the limbs would bend differently from one to the other. The big thing to look for is where does it bend. Where does the limb curve, and where does it not? Ideally, the bow limbs curve most in the middle, with a bit less at the beginning near the handle, and near the end at the nock point. Where it bends too much (it’s thinnest there), wood needs to be removed

 
 everywhere else, and where it is too stiff wood should be removed right there. Note that adding wood is not an option! And always check the edges of the bow to make sure they have the same thickness; that it does not slant from one side to the other, as this could introduce weakness and even twist.
Fairly quickly my bow stave was bending well and looking good. Interestingly, the limb with the two knots curved beautifully right from the start. The knot free limb had a reflex which was messing with the tillering, it kept looking flat and stiff. Rather than overcompensate and weakening that spot, the instructor decided it was easier to just heat treat the reflex straight. Which probably looked a whole lot easier than it was. When both limbs had a good bend, and looked even (also check the negative space when strung between stave and string), the bow still was too heavy for me. It drew in the upper forties which I thought is a bit much. But as the tillering was correct, instead of messing with the belly of the bow and making it thinner, which could change the tillering, now the best option is to make it narrower and thus remove from the sides. There is a balance between how thick a bow limb should be and how wide, as a wider bow has more air resistance which needs compensation in strength while thinning makes it weaker. Thus with the lower poundage draw weights it is better to go narrow in width than lose too much thickness. As mentioned before, twice as thick is eight times as strong, so taking off a little belly could quickly be way too much…

Looking for proper bend using the tillering stick: the middle of the left limb looks flat.

Ready for the first arrow!

Finally, the time had come to completely sand the bow (except for the back of course!), measure the right length for the bowstring (about 6 inches from the top if I remember correctly) and string it! Use a brace height of about a hand width (between string at rest and handle) and do not immediately pull to full length, go little bits at a time. Never leave a bow strung longer than it needs to be, it can develop string follow (stays slightly bend when unstrung) and loose strength. And never dry fire a bow, the energy that would otherwise travel with the arrow does not leave and can blow up the bow instead… And then the most satisfying of sounds: the thock of hitting the target with your first arrow!
The bow is still ‘young’ and needs ‘training’; exercise it regularly, shoot with it regularly, and not until it is a couple months old and you feel there is no more tweaking to be done is it time to finish. Oil, varnish or a stain – it does not really matter as long as you like it and it weatherproofs. Smooth the edges if you have not done so already. Carve pretty knock points. Add a leather wrapped handle. But most of all – take your bow and enjoy the great outdoors together!

The end: lots of happy students with their precious sticks! And each and every one looks different…

One last thing: be patient while crafting your bow. Take your time, put it away, come back to it; have a conversation. Read books, talk to bowyers: there are many different styles and techniques, and another way might work better for you. I found this course to be such fun, that I am already scouting our woods for logs to harvest, and with the experience I had enough information to make a quick bow with my son (and the band saw) from a stick harvested a couple days prior. We made it together and you should have seen him, he was so proud to shoot an arrow with a bow he’d made himself…

 
Simon (at right) with his self bow made from a 2” diameter green stick. Using a bandsaw for general shaping and tillering greatly shortened the time needed to make a bow, this one took about two hours, but also gave much more room for error as it is very quick and easy to take too much off. To save time (and limbs) a blend of modern and traditional techniques seems to work best: rough shaping with the bandsaw, and fine tuning with rasp and knife.

Want to read more?
Traditional Bowyers Bible’s Vol 1-4, Allely et al.; The Lyons Press, 2000
The Art of making Selfbows, Stim Wilcox
The Bow Builder’s Book, Horning ed.; Schiffer Publishing, Ltd., 2007
The Heritage of the Longbow, Pip Bickerstaffe; self published UK, 1999

For more information on the Bow Making Workshop. click here.

All photography and drawings by Susan Verberg, 2016.

From https://aethelmearcgazette.com/2016/11/15/from-split-log-to-bow-stave-the-last-day/

Make Soap the Old-Fashioned Way

Learn how to make your own lye from ashes, and then 

use it to cook up a mild, soft soap perfect for personal use.

By Susan Verberg

Soap-makers love to tell the story of how ancient Romans first “discovered” soap by burning animal sacrifices on Mount Sapo, and how the creeks at the bottom of that mythological mountain were the best places to do laundry. They’ll tell you that the water, ash and animal fat on those sites accidentally created the soap that filled the creeks. The reality is that the Romans didn’t actually make soap. They traded for it with the Celts, who dominated the market because of their access to abundant limestone and seashells [writer's note: this would be access to marine plants for soda ash as opposed to potash, not limestone which is calcium oxide], from which they produced slaked lime [soda ash] to make a caustic soda lye (sodium hydroxide).

After years of professionally making all-natural goat’s milk soaps to sell at our local farmers market, I decided to develop a self-sufficient soap-making process based on ancient techniques. My goals were to make my own lye and to turn kitchen-waste fats into soap. I finally took the plunge… and what an interesting adventure it became! I dug through old articles and manuscripts, learned to decipher medieval English, and filled my kitchen with weird, bubbling concoctions. And I wondered how something that seemed so simple could be so challenging.

Don’t let me discourage you. If you’re an outdoor enthusiast, you may have made soap already. Scrubbing a greasy frying pan with campfire ashes doesn’t just scour the dirt away: when rinsed with a little water, the hydroxide salts in the ashes combine with the cooking grease to form a primitive cleanser.

Understanding Soap-Making Basic

To undertake the process of soap making, known as “saponification” (from sapo, the Latin word for soap), let’s first review what soap is and why it works the way it does. Because soap is made from water-soluble bases known as alkalis, it neutralizes acids while retaining its ability to be dissolved in water. More specifically, soap is a surfactant with the unusual ability to diffuse fats and oils into water, which is why it can rinse away oily stains.

Soap is made by mixing dissolved hydroxide salts, generally called “lye”, with fatty acids. To make your own lye that you can use to produce a soft soap, you leach (or drip) water through ashes to dissolve the hydroxide salts. Ashes are highly concentrated minerals of hydroxides, nitrates, carbonates, sulfites, and more. The quality of the lye produced depends on how well the plant material was burned. I’ve found that the more complete the burn (all organic material combusted), the more hydroxides will be dissolved, and the more basic (that is, higher pH) the resulting lye will be. In the case of incomplete burns, such as you’d find in fire pits and fireplaces, you can add lime to help change the carbonates (charcoal) into hydroxides.

My drip lye made from ashes has a pH of about 11, while commercial lye has a pH of 14 – making it 1,000 times more basic than ash lye. This is a big reason why making drip-lye soap is so different from conventional soap making. Because of the lower pH, drip lye is a lot less dangerous to handle than modern commercial lye. As a precaution, though, you should always keep some vinegar handy during soap making because its acid will help neutralize the lye’s base.

Making soap using drip lye can be challenging because the purity, density, and consistency of home made lye is uneven. For home soapmakers, I recommend preparing hot-process soap (which I describe below) rather than cold-process because an exact amount or specific purity of lye isn’t required for successful saponification. In hot-process soaps, saponification – the chemical reaction between lye and fat – is controlled by added heat, not by the pH.

During my research, I uncovered a historic trick for checking the density of drip-ash lye using a fresh egg. Because an egg has about the same density as lye that’s the correct strength, the egg will float. Many colonial recipes for drip-ash lye recommend using homemade lye if it can float an egg with ¼ of its shell showing about the liquid. This lye will produce “Black Soap”, a strong laundry soap that historical re-enactors complain is too harsh. On the other hand, I uncovered a 16^th century shampoo recipe that recommends using lye dense enough to suspend an egg in the middle of the liquid. Suspended-egg lye makes near-neutral soap, perfect for personal use because it does not “bite”. This same historic recipe also confirms the 3-to-1 ratio of lye to fat that consistently works for me: “thre pottels of lye to one pot of oyl”. It’s nice to find confirmation that’s five centuries old!

Based on experience and historical research, I’ve developed these instructions for making a soft, creamy, hot-process soap from scratch – including homemade lye.

Soft Soap in 8 Steps

1 - To make a leaching barrel, drill a small hole at the bottom of a 5-gallon bucket and stuff it with a piece of dishcloth as a filter. Fill the bucket with sieved ashes, tamping down intermittently. Level the top, leaving about 2 inches of headroom. Slowly pour in about an inch of rainwater. When the water has absorbed, add about an inch more. Continue to slowly add water until liquid starts to drip out the hole in the bottom of the bucket – it should take about a day. Prop the ash bucket on top of a second bucket to collect this drip lye. (Or build a setup like in the illustration at the left.) You’re ready to test the strength when you’ve collected about 1 gallon.

                                                                                   

 

2 – If you’ve used regular ashes from a woodstove or fireplace in Step 1, the drip lye will be dark brown and probably won’t suspend an egg. Slowly heat the the drip lye and allow it to evaporate until it has the desired strength, which is likely to about a quarter of its original volume. Use stainless steel vessels for heating lye, never aluminum (which creates noxious gases in combination with lye) or enamel (which lye will etch). Cool down the lye before soap making. Contaminants will settle to the bottom. The next day, pour the purer lye solution off the top (that is, decant it). If you’ve used white ashes from a high-efficiency stove in Step 1, the lye may be light yellow and will float an egg from the get-go. Use this lye as is to make a strong, sharp laundry soap. To make neutral hand soap, slowly add water in small amounts until the egg is suspended in the solution.

 3 – Measure out (by liquid volume) 3 parts lye to 1 part oil. Fats that are solid at room temperature, such as tallow and lard, should be heated until they liquefy, and then cooled. If you’re a soap-maker beginner, use olive oil because the process will be easier. Add the lye to the oil and mix well – a stick blender works great – and let sit overnight.

 4 – After 12 hours rest, the solution will have separated. Mix it very well. Heat the solution for an hour or two in a slow cooker on the high setting with the lid in place. Stir only occasionally, as the soap should not be allowed to cool down. When the soap starts to rise, you’ll see foam forming under the lid. Remove the lid, and stir the soap well to settle the foam. Replace the lid, but prop a toothpick under the lid to create a little gap for hot air to escape.

5 – As the soap cooks in the slow cooker (still on the high setting), you’ll see bubbles form at the edge of the ceramic insert. This is the soap “turning itself”. It should only bubble at the edges – never boil in the center. You’ll observe finished soap starting to form on top. Stir occasionally to ensure that no areas dry out at the edges of the insert. Be sure to stir gently, because the mixture can foam up suddenly at this stage.

6 – The soap will get thicker and thicker until it incorporates, or finishes. Remove the slow cooker’s lid so excess moisture can evaporate. This soap will look like custard (soap-makers call this “trace”), leave droplet marks (“trace marks”) on the surface when scooped and drip off the spoon in globs. You’re nearly finished!

7 – Cook until it starts to have a glazed, sleek look, like petroleum jelly, and leaves little wavy points when stirred. If you part the soap at the bottom of the cooker, it should not come back together. Stop cooking at this point for a thin, soft soap. Or, keep evaporating the moisture until the soap is your desired density – it will never get hard. I prefer a whipped cream consistency.

8 – Your finished product will vary by color and consistency. I’ve made successful batches of soap using “old-fashioned” techniques and each one takes about six to seven hours. If you decide to try this process over open heat, be aware that a more erratic heat sources will make the soap behave erratically as well, and your mixture may not come to trace.

Making soap from homemade drip lye is a fun and rewarding project, and one that doesn’t require specialized or expensive equipment. I hope you’ll give it a try!

Susan Verberg is the founder of Far Mountain Soap in Ithaca, New York. Find her handmade soaps at www.FarMountainFarm.Blogspot.com

From the December 2016/January 2017 Mother Earth News issue, page 40-42.

You can find a scan of the article here:
https://www.academia.edu/31075422/Make_Soap_the_Old-Fashioned_Way._Mother_Earth_News_Dec_2016_Jan_2017

Mother Earth News published my soft soap article on p40-42, Dec 2016 issue

Make Soap the Old-Fashioned Way, published in the December 2016 issue of Mother Earth News (and available on newsstands shortly...):

 

 

For the complete article, with errata, you can check
https://www.academia.edu/31075422/Make_Soap_the_Old-Fashioned_Way._Mother_Earth_News_Dec_2016_Jan_2017

For a more complete picture of the process and chemistry involved you can download the research papers and handouts this article is based on from https://independent.academia.edu/susanverberg

And thank you all for your interest and continued support!

From Split Log to Bow Stave - Day Two

– my adventures at the two and a half day Bow Making Workshop at Primitive Pursuits in upstate Arnot Forest during prime fall colors…

By Elska á Fjárfella of the Dominion of Myrkfaelinn

The first cut made: the log is cut down to eye level.

Fast forward a year, and the log is peeled, dried and ready to be worked. If you know what you’re doing, it is possible to start with a live log and end with a dry bow in a couple of weeks. Luckily, at the workshop the logs were harvested the year before and dried to perfection. Now it is time to measure. We cut our log to the length of each person from floor to eye; this biometric length seems to work out for most people, and is one reason why a self bow is so personal. Then we established the back of the bow as reference. Do we include that knothole, or go around? We looked for the grain of the wood and marked the center length of our log and with pencil, dot the center width from top to bottom, while following the grain. With a straight grained log this will look like a mostly straight line from top to bottom. With knot holes (from a branch) and curves, this line will curve around & with them, and for optimal strength our bow would have to as well! With the types of trees available a flat belly bow, which is wide & thin, is a good design: the shape helps spread out compression as it is much stronger in depth than in width. The density of the wood and the poundage required give an indication as to how wide the bow should be. Twice as wide is twice as strong, twice as thick is eight times as strong!

The log’s length is measured and the exact center marked in pencil. From the center point, measure and mark a line 2” & 4” above and below. The middle 4 inches makes up the handle, and the 2” above and below will flare towards the outer edge of the bow limbs, and flare down from the handle to the belly of the limbs. Then on either side of the center line we add another line to mark the outside of our bow, about ¾ inch for a 30-40# and 1” for a 40-50# draw weight. Halfway up the bow limb we make another mark, and draw a line from there to the edge of the tip or knock point (which is about a half inch wide). This will make for a tapering shape to the top part of the bow limb, which helps reduce air drag and results in a faster, quieter and/or stronger release.





Then it’s time for some refined whacking of log with a hatchet! Day two started with this quote from the instructor: “all you have to do is cut away the wood that is not part of the bow inside”. Right! To help with coordination, the hatchet is held right below the axe head and only short quick chops are made. To help remove the excess in short chips and not long strips (which could run off right into your bow measurements by mistake) small nicks are chopped first along the path of where you intend to remove wood to cut up the wood fibers and then, layer by layer, wood chips are removed to about 1/8th to 1/4th of an inch around your pencil drawing and about three quarters of an inch for the bow limb depth.

 

The bow is only as big as the deepest tool mark, so the first day of chopping was rather tentative with lots of checking and rechecking of pencil marks. By the end of the day I had the backs of the limbs, the handle and the edges roughly chopped out and was surprised at the level of precision possible with a sharp hatchet and some practice!

Using a hatchet to rough out the bow shape.

A few things to keep in mind:
– Always chop away from the center or mass. As the bow is widest at the beginning of a limb, a chop towards the ends which has a split that runs too far, will most likely miss anything important as the outer limbs taper into the nock.
– Stop regularly to check your marks.
– Keep all planes square: chop a flat belly (the part facing you when shooting) and square off the edges.
– Work on both limbs alternatively, don’t finish one and then start the other, it’s easier to keep them similar if worked on parallel.
And whatever you do, do not touch the back (the part facing away when shooting: visualize a bending person and you’ll “see” where the terminology came from) – once the surface of the back is established either by peeling or scraping the bark it is off limits!

Lots of wood chips are made…

Wood grain is like fiber rope within a tree: just as a large cable made up of lots of small wires is strong enough to moor a ship, the same is true for plant fiber; enough of them together can withstand thunderstorms! But if there is fraying or some sort of damage, then one wind gust can fell a mature tree… and one scrape, nick or dent can do enough damage to make a bow unstable and set a precedence for a fatal crack!

We finished the second day with lunch around the campfire – it was hard to put down the stave and take a break!


 

 To be continued tomorrow….

https://aethelmearcgazette.com/2016/11/14/from-split-log-to-bow-stave-day-two/ 

Stick a Feather in and Squeeze... testing the strength of lye.

"the most difficult part of early soapmaking was determining if the lye was the correct strength. the “lye water” was considered the proper strength to make soap when an egg or small potato placed in the solution floated about halfway beneath the surface of the solution. if the egg or potato floated on top, the lye was too strong. if it sank quickly, the lye was too weak. some early soapmakers used goose or chicken feathers to test their lye. if a feather inserted in the lye water began to dissolve in it, then the lye water was at the right strength."
From http://www.ecobeings.com/soap-information/history-of-soap

"Unfortunately, we only made around a quart to begin with, so we'll only be left with a few drops at the end--not enough to do much with (even dissolve a feather, which was another test of lye strength we were going to try)."
From http://homesteadlaboratory.blogspot.com/2014/02/historical-lye-making-part-2.html

"Lye Water Strength: If an egg or potato will float just below halfway, or a chicken feather starts to dissolve in it, then the lye water is at the right strength."
From http://journeytoforever.org/biodiesel_ashlye.html


As you see, the idea of using a goose feather is prevalent on blogs and websites talking about historic drip lye soap making. But I've never been able to place the technique and further back than hearsay US Colonial times... until I was browsing through a late medieval German spot removal manual which has a couple of oddball recipes in the back, including To soften horn so much it can be formed into forms. And low and behold, there was a mention to using a feather to test the strength of lye, including how to use it! I'd tried it myself and from just sticking it in and looking nothing much happened (except leaving it in overnight resulted in some gorgeous crystals forming on the edges). I am looking forward by the next batch of fresh lye to go get a feather from the backyard, try it this way, and see what happens!


To soften horn so much it can be formed into forms. 
Take one pound of the ashes used in making glass, one pound unslaked lime, one "mass" water, allow to boil together until two thirds are evaporated, then stick a feather in and squeeze it between two fingers: if the hairs come off, the boiling has been enough, otherwise let boil longer; let it clarify and pour off, put in small chips of horn and let soften for two days, smear oil on your hands and the horn to make a paste and press into what you wish.

From the Allerley Matkel (1532) by Sidney Edelstein, Technology and Culture, Vol 5 no 3 (Summer 1964), pp. 297-321 - includes the original fascimile text with a translation and discussion.

From Split Log to Bow Stave: Day One

my adventures at the two and a half day Bow Making Workshop at Primitive Pursuits in upstate Arnot Forest during prime fall colors…

By Elska á Fjárfella of the Dominion of Myrkfaelinn.
 
When my hubbie decided he needed a better bow, he teamed up with Edward of Delftwood to make a longbow from a premade bowstave. It took him about six trips to Syracuse to get her done, and the bow he made is an absolutely gorgeous contrasting color triple layer laminate with a narrow “D” profile, made with plausible period materials and techniques. And while laminating is a period technique (one only has to think of the short, curved horse bow of the Mongol hordes) it’s not what came to my mind when he talked about making a longbow. I’d thought of stone age bows… Norse longbows… the incredible English longbows…

Reading up on the subject I quickly realized that what I like are self bows made from one piece of wood, especially ones with character (also called flaws). I could not find anyone to help learn about making self bows, but fortunately, we live in an area with an active primitive skills group of people (or Ithaca hippies, and do they look the part…). As part of the Primitive Pursuits outdoor classroom, which specializes in kid’s summer camps and after school programs but also has occasional adult weekend workshops, once a year a Bow Making Workshop is offered right here in town! And this year I decided to take the plunge…

Our son Simon checking out the different self  bows on display.

With just a couple of common tools like a rasp, a knife and an axe, and the abundance of his surroundings any person could, and can, make a bow strong enough to take a deer. Actually, a metal rasp, knife and axe is not even necessary, as one of our teachers demonstrated: he’d made a bow with a stone axe and a flint scraper he’d made himself, as well as creek sand as both file and sanding paper and it was completely indistinguishable from the bows made using modern tools! Like Europe, the American northeast has abundant hardwood forests with many suitable trees, and making a bow suitable to hunt from locally harvested materials is not out of our reach at all, even for us modern people!

First things first. We started the workshop with a sing-along to honor the trees and say thanks. Not something I am used to, but nice in a graceful kind of way. Then our two instructors introduced themselves: Justin, barefooted and wearing an inside out sheepskin vest and Sean, also barefooted and pledged to eat and work from and with local materials only (he had a smoked squirrel for lunch). And while normally feeling a bit out of norm as homesteaders etc, here I was likely one of the more normal ones of the dozen and a half students! I felt right at home…

Talking about wood.

Then we got right into bow making. As the bones of a bow is the wood, good care needs to be taken to find a suitable log. As a general rule, dense hardwoods like hickory, maple, oak, ash, and elm make good bows. Conifers like pine do not, and softwoods like willow and basswood do not either. Of course, the exception to this rule is yew, which is a low density conifer and makes awesome bows. But it also needs fairly specific strategies to work well with and is therefore not recommended for the beginner.

Next up is the quality of the wood. Of course, ideal would be a perfectly straight 6 to 7 foot, knot free trunk to be split into log staves. But who’s got one of those… Making a bow is much more forgiving that I expected and if reasonable care is taken in having a mostly straight, mostly knot free log, apparently it will be fine. What is to be avoided are twist and bends, especially for the beginner. A little twist could be worked around, and a reflex or deflex bend could be removed with heat, but these are more advanced techniques. Know your limitations and keep looking to find a log to go with your comfort level.

Demonstrating how to safely remove bark.

Our logs were cut between 6-7 feet (to fit the instructor’s truck bed). A 4-6” diameter log could be split in half for two staves, using a wedge, a mallet and some splitting wedges to keep the split going. When it is split wood glue is put on the ends. Paint and beeswax works as well, the advantage of wood glue being that it also works under tension (it’s stretchy) and can sometimes prevent cracks that might otherwise have happened anyway. The logs are dried in a cool dry place, like a garage or basement. Whatever you do, stay away from the hot woodstove!

About half of the split logs the students could choose from had the bark already removed as they were harvested in the summer, which was very convenient. Removing the bark facilitates drying and also prevents bark beetles from taking up home and destroying the potential stave. Some people advise getting winter wood as the wood is driest that time of year, others advise getting summer wood as the bark peels off easily. The grain of the wood gives a bow its strength and flexibility, but only if the back is one continuous growth ring from top to bottom. With the types of trees mentioned, the wood right below the bark is the wood used for making a bow, and baring the growth ring is easy if the bark is loose and can be peeled right off. The exceptions are locust and osage orange, where the outer sapwood needs to be removed and only the inner core is used. If the bark is not loose, it can also be carefully peeled first with a drawknife and finished with a scraping knife. Using a drawknife is an acquired skill, so practice first on some scrap wood until you get a feel for what’s happening. Whichever way you choose, always make sure to peel away from knots so as not to violate the grain curving around imperfections. Grain does not tend to go straight, so keep a close eye on what’s going on and always, always follow the ‘yellow brick’ grain.

End of day one, each with our own split log. I choose a piece of shagbark hickory.

To be continued tomorrow…..

https://aethelmearcgazette.com/2016/11/13/from-split-log-to-bow-stave-day-one/

Make your own period art supply!

Affordable, but oh-so-easy to make yourself, charcoal drawing sticks might very well have been one of the first art supplies available to man. As all that is needed to make some is a low oxygen burn, and as we have seen time and again with our son, it only takes a kid playing near a cooking fire and another graffiti artist is born!

The science behind making charcoal, or charring, is interesting yet surprisingly simple,  and revolves around oxygen. Charcoal is formed by the incomplete burn, or combustion, of wood. Composed of mostly cellulose (CH₂O), wood does not burn immediately; first it releases steam (H₂O) and turns from white to black. It chars, thus becoming charcoal (C, or the element carbon, with trace minerals). When charcoal burns in contact with air, carbon combines with oxygen to form the gas carbon dioxide (C + O₂ => CO₂) and lots of heat. The white ash leftover from burning charcoal is what remains of the small amount of non-flammable minerals which were present in the wood from the start (and can be used to make lye).

When wood is burned without oxygen (this is called anaerobic), it turns black as the water is evaporated out and charcoal is left behind. If access to air is limited and heat is removed, the charcoal will become stable and available for future use. Charcoal takes up less space and is able reach a higher temperatures with the addition of extra air (bellows) than a pile of wood, which makes it ideal for use in a smithy’s furnace. To make proper charcoal an anaerobic burn is necessary, and in history people have found different ways of doing so, mostly by either digging in wood in hill sides or covering wood with a burn resistant material (like a metal kettle) while building a large fire right over it.

Previously used and new paint cans ready for heating.

All kinds of woody twigs can be made into charcoal and by varying the types of trees the twigs come from you can make sticks of varying densities and hardness. To make the type of charcoal sold in art stores, traditionally grape vine or willow twigs are used. Add a small charcoal kiln, and a nice big bonfire, and voila! charcoal sticks!

Any kind of metal can with a tight fitting lid can be used as a charcoal kiln. I prefer to use a new paint can from a home improvement store as it has lots of room, a handle, and minimal chemical residue. It does have a liner and same as with yard sale tins it is a good idea to dry burn it first, not only to remove any leftover residue but also to see if the tin is strong enough to survive the temperatures of a good fire without melting or warping! Lastly, your kiln needs an air hole – a vent – in the lid; a finishing nail hammered through the center works perfectly.

Bonfire ready to go, kiln steadily venting steam.

Next up is the hunt for some good sticks and twigs. Keep in mind that charcoal shrinks significantly so don’t get real skinny ones. Wild grapes are easily found along roadsides and forest edges; willow likes to grow in ditches and near water. The bark can be removed beforehand, or left on to be removed later as needed. Fill the kiln as full as you can, making them as long as you can while still being able to close the lid. Hammer the lid on well, its purpose is to keep oxygen from entering the kiln chamber. It’s fine to mix types of wood and various diameters, and that way you’ll get a nice mix of drawing sticks to play with too!

Combustible gasses are being burnt off.

And now it’s time to play with fire. Make a good wood fire with lots of coal and with a long stick place your cans in or near the fire. Depending on the amount of water in the wood. after a bit steam will come out of the vent enthusiastically. If the steam comes out forcefully, looking like a pillar, pressure is building up inside which can blow off the lid. Either scoot the can over away from the heat a little, or wire the lid down, and try again. If you feel like it should be steaming but suddenly is not, the hole might be plugged with liquid tree sugars – fish the kiln out of the fire, use the nail to poke open (and slightly enlarge) the hole, and try again.

Closing off the air hole during cool down.

Heat the kiln well for at least an hour if it is directly in the fire, or a couple of hours if at the sideline. As long as steam is coming out no air can come in, and the charcoal is doing fine. If the lid blows off, replace is as soon as you can, and take another drink… At the end of the burn, when all water is evaporated, the combustible gasses are ready to go. The steam will dwindle away and suddenly a candle flame will spout out of the lid hole! When the flame also dwindles away, carefully take the kiln out of the fire, immediately plug the air hole and let it cool down completely.

Admiring the charcoal – it’s like a magic trick!

When the kiln has cooled down, pry open the lid and behold – your own freshly made drawing sticks! The neat thing of charcoal sticks as an art medium is that it smudges easily, which can be used to create impressive shadows and highlights – but can also easily muck up your drawing. It is a good idea to use a fixative (like hairspray or an art fixative) to protect your finished drawing, and to store your fragile drawing sticks in a sturdy container like a mason jar so they don’t get crushed or bent. And, last but not least: go forth & create!

It works!

BIBLIOGRAPHY
Dunn, Kevin M. Caveman Chemistry, 2003. ISBN 1-58112-566-6
Neddo, Nick. The Organic Artist, 2015. ISBN 978-1-59253-926-0
Verberg, Susan. Of Charcoal and Ashes, 2015. Class Handout by Elska á Fjárfella.
https://www.academia.edu/27757474/Of_Charcoal_and_Ashes


Published in the Aethelmearc Gazette, October 24, 2016
https://aethelmearcgazette.com/2016/10/24/make-your-own-period-drawing-charcoal/