Posts tagged ‘rennaissance’

Song: Three Mavens

In the lead up to Great Northern War, I’ve been thinking on the songs I’ve been packing away in my arsenal. I think that must have been seeping into my subconscious, because at roughly 2am this morning I had a song pop into my head, almost fully formed. I’ve worked on it through the day, and I bring you my song:

Three Mavens (to the tune of Three Ravens)

There were three mavens sat on a bench
Down a down they tore her down
Staring at a badly dressed wench
With a down
The one of them said to her friend
Look how badly that dress is hemmed
With a down truly truly they tore her down

That outer layer’s Florentine
Down a down they tore her down
But that chemise is from an earlier time
With a down
That’s a Viking circlet on her head
Why does she mix her period
With a down truly truly they tore her down

They called her over eagerly
Down a down they tore her down
And she stepped to those mavens three
With a down
She hoped for wisdom and new friends
They lectured her on fashion trends
With a down truly truly they tore her down

This fact will shock you and appall
Down a down they tore her down
The garb she wore was borrowed all
With a down
She quickly saw she was outclassed
Her first event shall be her last
With a down truly truly they tore her down

I’m releasing this song under a CC0 Waiver. For those familiar with Creative Commons, this is the least restrictive licence they supply.


CC0

To the extent possible under law,

Kristine Sihto

has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to
Three Mavens.
This work is published from:

Australia.

#44 Prince Bisket

Being the sort of person who wants to impress everyone every second of the day, when being asked to bring a plate for a colleague’s birthday party I decided to go all medieval on their feast. I said I would bring a sweet, then turned to the internet to save me.

I discovered this lovely site almost immediately and set to looking for something which a) seemed easy to make and b) didn’t require me stepping out of my house to find ingredients. Thus began my love of this recipe, Prince Bisket.

I have found two recipes for Prince Bisket. The first is the only one I have tried, as the second seems a little more involved.

The first recipe:

Hugh Platt p. 14/94 (attribution copied from originating site–I have not identified which of Platt’s works this recipe derives from)

Take one pound of very fine flower, and one pound of fine sugar, and eight egges, and two spoonfuls of Rose water, and one ounce of Carroway seeds, and beat it all to batter one whole houre: for the more you beat it, the better your bread is: then bake it in coffins, of white plate, being basted with a little butter before you put in your batter, and so keep it.

The second recipe: 

To make Prince Bisket

PERIOD: England, 17th century | SOURCE: A Daily Exercise for Ladies and Gentlewomen, 1617 | CLASS: Authentic

DESCRIPTION: A sweet bread or biscuit baked in a pie shell, or made like wafers

 To make Prince Bisket.

Drie a pound of very fine wheat flower in an Ouen two houres, after the bread hath beene drawne, or the Ouen being warmed, but not heated for the nonce, the flower were best in an earthen Pipkin couered, least it loose the colour, put to it a pound of double refined Sugar beaten and cearsed fine, then take ten new laid Egges, take away fiue of their whites, straine these Egs into a Bason, with a spoonfull of Rose-water, and sixe spoonfuls of scalded Creame, when you haue all in the Bason, first put in your cearsed Sugar, and let it dissolve by beating it into your Egs, then put in your flower by little and little, vntil both the flower and the other things be incorporated, beat it well together an houre at least, and you shall at last see it turne white, then you must have coffins of white plate indude with butter as thinne as you can, so as it be touched in euery place, then take an ounce and a halfe of sweet Anise-seed, and one of Coriander, dried rubd and dusted, put the Anise-seed in the batter, & the batter into the coffins, and bake it an houre at least if you will, you may make Cracknels of the same batter, driue it thinne vpon the Plates, and when you take it off, rowle it thinne like a Wafer, and dry them again in the Ouen.

What I did:

I saw the redaction on the first recipe then proceeded to ignore it completely.

Not wanting a large amount of food, I cut the recipe down to two cups of white flour and one cup of white sugar and sifted them together.

I took two eggs and put them into my blender for a few seconds. Then I put a decent splash of rosewater in with the eggs and blended it again. By decent splash, I’m talking somewhere in the vicinity of 1 1/2 tablespoons of rosewater. Then I tipped the flour/sugar into the blender with the eggs along with roughly 2 tablespoons of caraway seeds.

I blended all this together for a couple of minutes, using a spatula to push it down the sides a couple of times.

Once it was nice and smooth, I put small squares of greaseproof paper into a mini-muffin tray and put the mix into each section.

Then I popped the tray into a preheated oven at 180C for 20 min.

Prince Bisket

Prince Bisket: I forgot to take a photo until they’d been half eaten already.

They are delicious. The caraway and the rosewater really make this a flavour that’s unusual and morish. After trying the first one I was a little worried that the flavour might not suit the modern palate (particularly as I was feeding them to people who hadn’t experienced medieval foods before), but I’ve had multiple requests now for the recipe. I’d say that’s a winner.

Breadth Challenge #26: Mittens!

I have, for the past couple of weeks, been recuperating from hand surgery.  I can’t do a hell of a lot with my right hand right now due to a lack of mobility, after stitches and a week in plaster left me with a stiff wrist.  Wanting to make sure I developed precision in my fingers once again, I’ve been reprising the stitch I mentioned in the last post (which has now been identified as buttonhole stitch), and have a variation which I’m currently looking up.  Sorry, guys, no process photos this time, but perhaps with my next post (which should be socks)

So I got through the first mitten, and started thinking about the way I attached the thumbs.  I grew up with integrated thumbs on gloves, so it seemed like the most natural way of attaching them, but as I worked the mittens directly off my hands rather than any researched pattern, I really don’t know.  I think I’ll be going on a research binge over the next couple of days, because I really want to know now.

 

Songs 5: Annachie Gordon

I fell quite in love with this song when I heard Sinead O’Connor performing it (here).  So of course, I ran off immediately to research where it came from, and listen to a heap of other performers doing it.

Annachie Gordon does not strictly fall within the period covered by the SCA.  It’s Child Ballad 239, Roud 102, and it’s earliest appearance (that my admittedly limited research could find) is cca. 1824, though in 1828 it was apparently listed in Buchan‘s “Ancient Ballads and Songs 2”, suggesting it may be at least a few decades older.

This song has gone through a few odd permutations.  At some point, the town of Buchan (pronounced Buck-an) became the town of Harking, which doesn’t actually exist.  This seems to happen in a fair amount of folk songs, where often the song is passed on purely by ear, resulting in a “Chinese Whispers” style evolution.  Indeed, this phenomenon has happened a few times with this song, Lord Saltoun becoming Lord Salting or Sultan, Auchanachie being shortened to Annachie, and at one point our hero became Hannah Le Gordon (you may need to scroll across on the link to see) when the song moved south from Scotland into England.

Almost all commercial versions of this song can be tracked back to the rendition performed by Nic Jones (unfortunately I don’t have a link to the song to offer), and all renditions using the place name “Harking” can be tracked back to Mary Black (who, it seems, misheard Nic Jones).  Thanks to the Mudcat Cafe  for their lovely thread I got this info from.

In the tradition of singers everywhere, I’ve tweaked this song until it makes vocal and logical sense to me, so there’s a good possibility that you won’t find this exact set of lyrics anywhere else.  However, it’s close to most commercial versions.

Buchan is bonny, and there lives my love.
My heart lies on him and cannot remove.
It cannot remove for all that I have done,
And I never will forget my love Annachie.
For Annachie Gordon, he’s bonny and he’s braw,
He’d entice any woman that ever him saw.
He’d entice any woman and so he has done me
And I never will forget my love Annachie.

Down came her father and he’s standing at the door
Saying, “Jeannie, you are trying the tricks of a whore.
You care nothing for a man who cares so much for thee,
You must marry Lord Saltoun and leave Annachie.
For Annachie Gordon, he’s barely but a man.
Even though he may be pretty but where are his lands?
The Lord Saltoun’s lands are broad and his towers they run high.
You must marry Lord Saltoun and leave Annachie.”

“With Annachie Gordon I beg for my bread
But before I marry Saltoun his gold to my head,
His gold to my head and fringes straight down to my knee,
I will die if I don’t get my love Annachie.
And you who are my parents to church you may me bring
But unto Lord Saltoun I’ll never bear a son.
Not a son or a daughter, I will never bend my knee
And I’ll die if I don’t get my love Annachie.”

Jeannie was married and from church she was brought home,
And when she and her maidens so merry should have been,
When she and her maidens both merry should have been
She runs into her chamber and she cries all alone.

“Come to bed now Jeannie me honey and me sweet,
To stile you, my mistress, it would be so sweet.”
“Be it mistress or Jeannie it’s all the same to me,
But in your bed, Lord Saltoun, I never will lie.”
And down came her father and he’s spoken with renown,
Saying “You that are her maidens, go loosen up her gown!”
And she fell down to the floor, so close down by his knee,
Saying “Father, look, I’m dying for me love Annachie.”

The day that Jeannie married was the day that Jeannie died,
And the day that young Annachie came home on the tide.
And down came her maidens all wringing of their hands
Saying “Oh, you’ve been so long, you’ve been so long upon the sands.
Oh, so long upon the sands, so long upon the flood,
They have married your Jeannie and now she lies dead.”

“You that are her maidens, come take me by the hand
And lead me to that chamber where my love she lies in.”
And he kissed her cold lips until his heart it turned to stone,
And he died there in that chamber where his love she lies in.

My rendition:  Annachie Gordon

As an aside, I found another version, not based on Nic Jones’ version.  Raymond Crooke looks like he’s an excellent resource, look for him either on YouTube or here.

Songs 4: Gaudete

I’ve been meaning to learn this song ever since I heard that it is thoroughly HATED by many in the local SCA groups.  It’s the Achy Breaky Heart of medieval music, I suppose.  Everyone in the SCA has heard it so many times that it’s like shards of glass in the ears.  My partner, who has been in the SCA for roughly 2 decades now, tells me it slowly drains his will to live.

However, the rest of the world is not so well versed in nativity songs sung in obsolete languages, at least not in the piece of my world that isn’t occupied by medieval re-enacting.  Thus I found myself desperately memorising lyrics just days before my college Christmas party, so that I could sing Latin a-capella in front of people who don’t hear that sort of thing very often.

Gaudete is genuinely medieval, being published in 1582 in Piae Cantiones.  

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virgine, gaudete!

Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætitiæ
Devote reddamus.

Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.

Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur.

Ergo nostra contio
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.

These lyrics roughly translate out to the following:

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
(Out) Of the Virgin Mary — rejoice!

The time of grace has come—
This that we have desired,
Verses of joy
Let us devoutly return.

God has become man,
To the wonderment of Nature,
The world has been renewed
By the reigning Christ.

The closed gate of Ezekiel
Is passed through,
Whence the light is born,
Salvation is found.

Therefore let our gathering
Now sing in brightness
Let it give praise to the Lord:
Greeting to our King.

My rendition of the song can be found here:  Gaudete

On Bone

Bone is lovely stuff.  I fell in love with it at the first SCA demo my partner took me to.  There was this wonderful lady who had some remarkable bits of carved bone on display, and we got into a prolonged discussion about the merits of bone carving as an art form.  I came away from that demo with a desire to try it, at least once in my life.

The first thing I found out was that it’s not that easy to get information about it on the internet.  I guess I’m a lazy researcher, if I can’t find it on Google, I pretty much won’t look much further unless I have a really good reason to.  So, after a few hours looking at sites that were only marginally connected to what I was trying to find out, I figured the best way to learn was to reinvent the wheel.

I didn’t do it all alone.  I’d had some good discussions with some SCAdians about bone and horn before I started, so I knew there were health risks involved.  If you’re reading this as a future bone carver, please note: there are SERIOUS health risks involved.  Bone is wonderful stuff, but when you carve it, you get powdered bone.  Powdered bone is not good to breathe.  If it gets into your lungs, it stays there.  It’s too heavy to cough out.  Powdered bone can also scratch corneas.  ALWAYS use safety goggles and a decent face mask that will stop fine particulate matter.  Keep your carving area well ventilated.  And, where possible, run a vacuum cleaner close to your work to suck up excess bone powder.  No piece of carving is worth you contracting white lung, or going blind.  On top of that, hand protection is a must too.  If you’re working scrimshaw, you’re going to be using lots of sharp implements that can easily slip.  If you’re using a rotary tool, not only do you have slippage to worry about, you’ve got to watch that you take frequent breaks.  The vibration of the tool can cause a problem known as white finger.  Use carving gloves, and don’t run your rotary tool for hours on end. 

Preparation

When I first set out to learn, I decided to go the whole hog.  The cheapest way, I figured, was to buy pet bones and prepare them myself.  I had been advised that boiling the bones was a good way to get the nasties off, and that a little bit of detergent into the water would help to break down the connective tissue.  That sounded awesome to my scientifically inclined mind, and made a lot of sense.  So I picked up a couple of bags of offcuts marked for pets from the local butcher, shoved them into a huge pot of water with a bit of detergent in it, chucked it onto the stove and sat down to wait for the magic to happen.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited.

Some pieces of bone were ready almost immediately, and these were carefully removed with tongs as they became free of meat and marrow.  Others took much longer.  After twelve hours of topping up the water so it didn’t boil dry, I got rather sick of the smell and the heat, so I stopped.  There were still bone pieces with connective tissue adhered to them.  The theory behind the detergent is all well and good, but in practise, it’s not that great after all.

Translucency due to fat in the bone

Using offcuts wasn’t that great either.  I had a pile of different pieces of bone, but not all of them were usable, and they were all rather thin (<2mm).  I managed a lot of nice sized flat pieces early on, but they were fragile.  Boiling them for so long also managed to produce some strange colourations, as in some cases the marrow seeped into the pores of the bone, and in others the fat turned the bone yellowish or patchy and almost translucent .

  Later on I changed the source of my bone, having found a pet supply store nearby.  It’s marvellous what opportunities expanding your horizons can provide you with!  I began paying a bit more for my bones, but getting more bang for my buck, when I switched to using shin.

My mate, Jean the Hornmaster, told me I should only be boiling the bones long enough for the marrow to go nice and sloppy, so I did just that.  Forget the detergent, forget boiling for hours on end, I put the water to the boil, popped in my new bones, and roughly a half hour later I retrieved them.  I gave them a flush with cold water, poked out any marrow that was still stuck in the middle, and voila!  I had some lovely, white bone that was roughly 6 – 7mm thick throughout.

This carving clearly shows marrow that has seeped into the pores of the bone.

Carving

My first foray into bone carving was a small piece of scrim, using only a needle.

Mermaid, carved on beef bone, coloured with oils.

I chose a mermaid, as all my somewhat limited forays into internet research on scrimshaw had led me to the conclusion that “true authenticity” would be best upheld by a nautical theme. (N.B. I was rather precious at the time.  I have since relaxed somewhat).

It took me forever to carve this.  Well, maybe not forever, but a number of hours.  I think I can put this down to not yet realising something every scrimshander needs to know.

Bone is softer when it’s wet.

Dry bone is horribly hard and brittle, and doesn’t take a needle very well at all.  But soak that bone in water, and it’s hard not to mark it.

Also, don’t use a needle, or a pin, or any other sharp thing that’s really small.  Your hands will cramp up terribly.  Try a splinter probe, or a really sharp awl.  And don’t forget the carvers gloves, or some other sort of hand guard designed for carvers.  You will end up stabbing yourself, no matter how careful you are.

 For the record, using oil paint to colour my work was not an original idea.  I read somewhere (I forget where, but I’m pretty sure it was a tertiary source with no references) that oil paints was a common way of making scrim stand out on the bone.  I forget which particular period this referred to, but it was within a time period covered by SCA.  So I went ahead and painted my work with oil paints that may very well be synthetic tones (LOL) with the gusto that only the very freshest of SCAdians can muster, not documenting any of my research at all.  The older me winces.  It may very well be a period practice, but I haven’t seen anything about it since.  Please, if anyone has more information about the historic use of oils to colour scrimshaw, please leave a comment with sources, I’d be very interested to follow up on that one.

After this first attempt, I pretty much gave up on using the old fashioned methods and turned to a rotary tool (also known as a Dremel, for those who use well known brand names to signify the generic item).  It used to belong to my partner.  It now, through use and addition of added extras, belongs to me by default.

Originally my rotary tool had a flexible arm that I could attach bits to.  I don’t any more.  It seems they get hot very quickly (I melted the plastic on the outside of it within the first week of use), and they’re rather fragile (the second week, I don’t know how, but the inner drive shaft snapped).  Since then I’ve been working without the flexi-arm.  This offers some unfortunate limitations to angles I’m able to reach with my bits, but them’s the breaks.

A rotary tool allows you to do amazing things with bone very quickly.  I’ve found that using dry bone with a rotary tool is better than using wet bone, as wet bone tends to gum up the bits very quickly.  Also, if you’re using  a rotary tool on bone, use a low speed setting.  Bone burns very easily, and when it does, it turns a very unpleasant orange colour.  I actually learned this from attempting to buff an early piece of bone I was preparing for a local A&S competition.  Faster does not necessarily equate to quicker.  Unfortunately, the burn was in a place I couldn’t sand out, so I had to resort to hiding it, by inking the entire piece in black and rubbing off highlights.   My piece won, but I will always recall the shame of hiding the unsightly burn.

Polishing

Bone takes a polish very nicely with a polishing wheel.  I’m quite fortunate to have a large grinder in my workshop, with a rag disk attached, but you can get similar polishing implements that attach to drills, and tiny polishing bits for rotary tools are available from most hardware stores.

Polishing your bone will show you exactly where all your lumps and bumps are.  If you’re using a rotary tool for your carving, this is where your little stone bits come in.  Work carefully over your rough spots with your fine grinding bits until it comes up nicely.  I say carefully, because it’s very easy to remove pieces of detail.  Then polish.  You should be able to get a mirror shine when you’re done.

Polishing compounds will help you to get a nice finish, but the bone will generally pick up a tinge of the compound colour.  It doesn’t always buff completely out, especially in areas of high detail.  For this reason, I’ve stopped using a green cutting compound.  It simply looked wrong.  I generally use a brown, however I’ve been told that white compounds exist which would be a better choice.  If you do happen to get cutting compound into prominent, hard-to-buff places, there’s a simple solution.  Brush your carved piece rather briskly with hot water and a soft toothbrush.  The plastic is softer than the bone, so it leaves your pattern and polish intact, while removing the coloured cutting wax.

If you’re working scrim without anything electrical, progressively finer sandpapers will do the trick, until you’re eventually buffing with a soft cloth.  The level of polish you’re going to get depends on your level of patience.

Hopefully this little how-to has been of help to those seeking the knowledge I had to find out the hard way.  Happy carving, everyone!

My latest piece, completed this morning.

Breadth Challenge #16: Hennin

I find myself rather suddenly in need of headwear for Abbey, my snood being elsewhere due to a miscommunication about garb I lent out.  So, last night I searched the internet for 15th Century headwear, intending to make something to fit with my 15th Century Italian gown.

I found the hennin,  many pictured on ladies wearing gowns very similar to the cut of my own.

The classic image of the princess wearing a pointy hat with a long, flowing scarf trailing from the tip is the example most people are familiar with.  Some hennins are portrayed as being conical, others as heart shaped, but the one I have made is a truncated cone.

I had absolutely no idea where to begin, so I searched Google for a “how to” guide, and found this.  Whoever wrote that guide is forever golden in my eyes, because it took me only a few hours to get a wearable hennin, and most of that was taken up in hand sewing.  After wearing it for the past 2 1/2 hours, I can quite honestly say it’s possibly the most comfortable headwear I’ve ever worn.

Hennin Components: clockwise from left, the cage, the sleeve, the comb, the scarf, and the U-needle

There are 5 pieces to this rather elaborate hat.

  • The comb, which sits around your head and is tied in the back to fit snugly.
  • The cage, which ties directly onto the comb.  This is the structural assembly that holds it all up.
  • The U-needle, which hooks onto the comb and allows for forward adjustment at any time you feel your hennin may be slipping backwards.
  • The sleeve, which fits over the cage and hides all that wire.
  • The scarf, to drape over the entire lot.

Me wearing my new piece of garb

The trickiest part in the entire thing is the cage, but a little perseverance will get you there eventually.  My hennin is slightly lopsided, but I don’t think anyone except me will ever look that closely at it to notice.

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