Tag: Persona Gubbins Challenge 2019

PGC2019: Master Christian Baier’s “M&M” dress

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Master Christian enters her stunning gown into the category “With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings, with ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things.” She describes the garment her persona would have worn:

Persona period inspiration and use:

Christian is a woman of the court in early 16th C Saxony. Clothing of women of this court are recorded in art of the time, most notably in the portraits of Lucas Cranach.

I had intended to make this gown originally for Midwinter Coronation in Cluain in 2017, but my modern work commitments became overwhelming and I did not get the dress finished at that time. The gown then spent time in the “naughty corner” waiting on another event for which a velvet, high-necked court gown would be appropriate, which presented itself in the shape of Midwinter Coronation 2019 in Southron Gaard. I had completed the bodice and skirt of the gown, so it was a fairly small job to assemble those, attach the fastenings, and make the breast patch. Sadly I was enjoying that event too much to get photographs, but I am told the play of firelight across the velvet and silk was lovely.

The dress is nicknamed the “M & M” dress, not only because the design comes from an illustration of ‘Maria and Margareta’, but also because there are 413 (or perhaps more) individual pattern pieces for the dress across the fabric, interlining, and lining. (Why a nickname? I have quite a few black and gold Saxon gowns, so it’s useful to have an easy way to identify each.)

The dress design comes from an illustration of Maria and Margareta, daughters of John the Steadfast, Elector of Saxony in the Das Sächsisches Stammbuch (the Saxon family / friendship book) of 1546, in the Dresden archives, which features drawings of the extended families of the Dukes of Saxony and their ancestors.

The dowry of Magdalene of Saxony (daughter of Duke George the Bearded of Saxony, and his wife Elizabeth) from her wedding to Joachim Hektor II, the Margrave of Brandenburg (heir to the Electorate) in 1524 lists approximately two dozen gowns. As a peer of the realm, this seems like a useful sized wardrobe for Christian! Magdalene’s dowry includes gowns of velvet and silk brocade, trimmed with pearls, similar to the M&M gown.

Design, Materials and Construction:

Design:the design is taken directly from the Stammbuch illustration of Maria and Margareta, although with the cuffs of one dress and the brustfleck design of the other. The dresses in the Stammbuch are similar to Saxon court gowns seen in other portraits of this period, so can be assumed to be an accurate representation of clothing of noble women of the period.

Materials and construction:  the gown is made of a natural fiber high quality velvet, which is about as close to period velvets as it is possible to get at an affordable price. Of course the joke is on me, because the pile is very thick, which makes it fiddly to sew (hence the “naughty corner”). The brocade is gold metal thread and black silk in a traditional brocade design. The gown is interlined with linen canvas, and lined in linen.

References:

  • 1526 Nuremberg wedding record: H. Doege, “Das von Questzische Hochzeistbüchlein, 1526”, Waffen und Costumekunde, 1922. Also see school regulations, textbooks, and pedagogical miscellanes from the lands of the German tongue: on behalf of the society for German educational and school history, Volume 34. Translated here .
  • Saxony family book: The Saxon family book 1546, http://digital.slub-dresden.de/werksicht/dlf/56803/1/cache.off
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PGC2019: Mistress katherine kerr’s Acqua de Lavanda

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Under the category of “To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet”, Mistress katherine kerr shares her adventures in the arts of the stillroom.

“A lady of worth should smell sweet, so it is a pleasure to use plants from the garden and spices from the kitchen to make a tisane suitable for my hair, my face and my linens.

I like having a nice-smelling spray when I’m ironing my linen garb, but the recipes for Queen of Hungary Water always seem chockful of ingredients. As a starter, I decided to try Acqua de Lavenda, from Gioventura Rosetti’s Notandissimi Secreti de l’Arte Profumatoria , a book of 30 cosmetic recipes published in Venice in 1555.

I poured 2/3C of acqua vitae (in this case plain vodka) over 1/2C of dried lavender flowers from my garden, and let the mix steep in a screw-top jar for three days. (Countdown had jars with my KK sigil on them!)

To the resulting dark brown solution, I then added 1/4C of rosewater, 3 sticks of cinnamon and 6 cloves. Rosetti has the liquid distilled in an alembic, which I didn’t have. So I sealed the jar tightly and placed it in a pot of gently simmering water for around 15 minutes.

The jar’s metal lid showed a pleasingly indented form, indicating it was sealed with a partial vacuum. From there it went into a dark cupboard for four weeks for more steepage.

The mess was strained to remove the soggy lavender and spices, producing a dark honey-coloured tincture. The scent is on the spicey, rather than lavendery side, much to my approval. I look forward to trying it as a hair rinse or ironing spray — probably diluted with water 1:3 or 1:4 times, as seen in the smaller bottle.

I now have a jar of Queen of Hungary Water currently steeping away in the cupboard , but I think the liquid to plant matter ratio may be wrong. I’ll know in a couple of weeks.”

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PGC2019: Mistress katherine kerr’s Torse and Lambrequin (Mantling)

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Mistress katherine kerr’s latest entry falls into the category of “Is this a dagger I see before me?”

In her words:

“I felt it my duty to help my consort present a good-looking corpse..er..combatant on the Field of Mars and so decided to make him a torse and matching lambrequin to adorn his helm and make it easier to identify him, alive or dead.

The torse and mantling are commonly depicted in heraldic illustrations, the torse being a twisted roll of fabric holding the billowing drapery of the lambrequin or mantling.

German Wappenbuchs (rolls of arms) show the use of torse and mantling in heraldry; illustrated manuscripts like the Nuremberg Tournament and Parade Album show knights riding into tournaments with torse, mantling and crests.

Album: https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/22.229/

Both torse and mantling reflect Sir Radbot’s livery colours of argent and sable, with references to his rat charges in the form of a number of small metal rat charms on the torse and rat dagging on the mantling. The torse is a general match to my own consort head roll, and has a long tail of silk, as seen in the Schembert Carnivals.”

 Schembert Carnival: https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/radical-fashion-from-the-schembart-carnival-1590/

https://www.lesenluminures.com/artworks/categories/4/9486-p-schembart-ldquo-hiding-beard-rdquo-carnival-book-p-c.-1540-1550/

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PGC2019: Master Brian’s Spoon

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Master Brian’s crafty wee spoon and case is entered under two categories: “With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery, With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery” as well as “‘Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich”.

My persona’s parents were Genoese traders.  Once we left the siege of Caffa in 1345, we traded around western Europe.  Accommodation varied a lot and it was handy to have my own cutlery.

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PGC2019 Baronessa Ginevra’s Candle making class

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At Firey Knights II, and again at Golden Flight, Baronessa Ginevra taught how to make dipped beeswax candles.

Across most of the period we cover, beeswax is an appropriate and good option for candles.  It casts a brighter, clearer light then rushlights, so you can read or work by it, and it doesn’t drip as much as the modern alternatives of paraffin wax or soy.  Dip candles use less wax than some other means of candle production, and are simple to produce – just ask the children who made their own!

(Thanks are due to Ladies Gisla and Vigdis for the photos of their candles, because Ginevra realised she forgot to take any during the classes)

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PGC2019: Baronessa Isabel Maria’s Sugar Cone

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This sweet wee entry in the category “Do you think because you are virtuous that there shall be no more cakes and ale” is explained thusly:

Sugar Cone

A detail from “…the art in which sugar is made” by Jan van der Straet. 
You can see the sugar cones drying on the table, and the empty moulds on the floor

Many, many years ago, in London, I found myself intrigued by a number of things I saw in museums; one of which was reproduction sugar cones and a couple of original moulds.  Having not really had the chance to explore this particular fascination, I asked myself some of questions: “did they use sugar in 16th century cooking?”, “what did period sugar look like?” and “ was it actually transported or sold in cones?”

A little light research (in period recipe books I have on hand) indicated that yes, sugar was used in late 16thc cooking.  Some more research suggested it could be purchased in a variety of forms and degrees of refinement.

Construction: I mixed brown sugar, caster sugar, and demerara sugar together until I got the sort of colour indicated in my notes from the museums I visited in 2003.  I then sprinkled in a few drops of water, (just enough for the sugar to hold together when pressure was applied) and mixed it through. A small amount of the sugar mixture was transferred to a lightly oiled mould and pounded into shape with the end of a chopstick.  I roughed up the surface of the moulded sugar before adding more and pounding that into the mould.  This was repeated until the mould was full.  After drying for a couple of days, the sugar cone was tipped out and allowed to fully air dry.

Verdict: In this form, the sugar is a bit shattery to use, but fun to make and it looks sufficiently different from modern sugar to not look out of place in a period style spice box.  
As I don’t have any sugar nippers, I have to shave or grate off any sugar I want to use.  This difference also serves to remind me that sugar was an expensive “spice” in the 16th century, and should be used sparingly.  The fact this sugar cone causes that change in my mindset while cooking is particularly pleasing.

Resources

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PGC:2019 Baronessa Isabel Maria’s Spice Box

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Another entry from Maestra Isabel Maria under the category “Do you think because you are virtuous that there shall be no more cakes and ale?” She describes her ongoing spice box project:

“As I like to “play house” at Canterbury Faire, (rather than consider myself as going “on campaign” or “on pilgrimage” etc) I am trying to make sure all the items I regularly use are persona-appropriate so that I no longer need to hide items away in my tent.  One thing that annoyed me last year were modern cardboard spice boxes sitting on my work surface.  So, with regard to keeping valuable spices secure and yet convenient for use, I once again asked “what did they use in period?”, which lead to, what I assume is a wee spice box (below right), shown in the 1570 Scappi manuscript. 

Although I have been unable to find an equivalent in a Spanish resource, making do with an item from a neighbouring area (Italy), with which Spain had significant commerce,  seemed reasonable.
My Version: Collation of this project began with the careful shopping for a suitable box and bottles.  The box is one for transporting essential oils, so had the small compartments already fixed in place.  I chose corked bottles of brown glass, because they were available, affordable and, most importantly, fit in the box compartments.  (That the darker colour would help reduce the amount of light reaching the expensive spices is a bonus.) 
As for the spices contained in the box, I have chosen only those spices used in the specific 16th century English and Spanish recipes I like to cook, namely: 

  • Anise
  • Black pepper
  • Carraway
  • Cinnamon quills
  • Cloves
  • Ginger
  • Mace
  • Nutmeg (and grater)
  • Salt
  • Saffron
  • Sugar cone

I still have some empty spots for other spices that I acquire as my repertoire of recipes increases, or for mysterious spices like grains of paradise, long pepper and galingale etc.  

Verdict: First used on the spiced water project where it proved convenient, although I’m looking forward to see how it works at Canterbury Faire. 
I suspect I will need to find a way to label the bottles for ease of use, probably on the top of the cork lid since I don’t want to have to lift each bottle out to see what is in it, once it gets a little empty.  Similarly, I’m not overly happy with the plain corks securing each bottle as they seem a little… unfinished compared to the period illustration.”

Resources

  • “The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi (1570): L’arte Et Prudenza D’un Maestro Cuoco”
  • “English Huswif’s Jewel” by Thomas Dawson (1596)
  • “Libre del Guisados” by Roberto de Nola (a Spanish edition of Libre del Coch), published in 1529 ,  translated by Lady Brighid ni Chiarain
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PGC2019: Mistress katherine kerr’s “How to puzzle a Knight with the written word”

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Mistress katherine kerr describes her entry:

“I have some languages: the Scots of my country (though little used here in the Laurel Kingdoms so mostly forgotten); the English of our near neighbour and the close dialects used within the land of Lochac; and a smattering of the Latin and Italian I learned when a young girl living in the Venice of my birth.

This Challenge provided impetus to take a look at Scottish terms, vocabulary and oaths; a surprising number of which were reasonably familiar to me!

One of my long-held SCA disappointments is how difficult I find it to do a convincing accent, so katherine has never sounded particularly Scottish, but I am becoming more familiar with Scots usage in written form.

I had been working on a series of letters to my lord-consort, Sir Radbot von Borg. As I was to be overseas for an extended period, I was missing three tourneys. The letters were given to the Baroness of Southron Gaard for delivery when Sir Radbot made his salute to me.

I used some general Scottish/Elizabethan usage but really went to town in one using an English-Scots translator supplemented with various word lists. By the time I was finished, it was pleasingly well-nigh incomprehensible….

The second letter in the series was scheduled for delivery at the Fiery Nights Tourney — the Feast Day of St Matthew, whose angel stands for the application of reason. The latter was pertinent as the letter expressed concerns for Sir Radbot’s safety in such a dangerous environment where I “have a premonition that [he] may be burned or [his] clothes catch fire or flaming stones rain down upon [him] from on high”.

In this letter, the first page of the bifolium (the folded paper typically used for correspondence) was written in a tight secretary hand using as much Border and Lowland Scots terms and forms as I could muster. So the above-mentioned concern was expressed as: “I hae a firebrod ye micht burn yersel, your claes cuid catch oan fire an you cuid be skelp by a flaming stane fra on hie.”

The second page had katherine’s apologies for “the uncivil tongue which precedes this more harmonius note” as she went on to explain that she asked her secretary to take down her words “never thinking he would transcribe my thoughts into his own broad Border Scots, a tongue I know you do not ken”. She then provided a clear English translation of the original text, albeit somewhat gentler in tone than the Border Scots.

Thus the secretary’s transcription started: “Tha bruit came th’daie hither thit ye war thinkit tae put inta tha firey rammy an a am worriit thon it kin be a glaikit thing tae dae whit wi tha danger n aa.”

Or as katherine put it: “I heard today that you were thinking of entering the Firey Tournament and am worried that it might be an unwise (Scots glaikit = stupid) thing to do given the danger.”

The address included the instruction “make haste” — this was not an uncommon phrase, sometimes repeated again and again, on letters with a time-critical aspect. Cecil and Burghley were known to use this inscription when about Queen Elizabeth’s business.

The letter was locked using a tucked-in format and a seal, based on the form used by Erasmus.

Letterlocking: Desiderius Erasmus’ Tucked Triangle Lock (1517)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCRo1_sulAM

I am told Sir Radbot was called up in opening court to receive my missive and spent some time with Sir Sebastian trying to puzzle out the Scots (much easier to do when you try reading it aloud!). It apparently took them some time to notice the second page….

Given that I ayewis gie it laldy, I now have a list of interesting words and phrases I may throw into the conversation and see how they go.

Lang may yer lum reek!”

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PGC2019: Mistress katherine kerr’s Soul Cakes

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A delicious entry from Mistress katherine kerr under the heading of “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?” She says:

“Soul Cakes, Soul Cakes, please good Mistress a Soul cake

For that it lies near the Feast of All Souls Day and for that said day is the Natal Day of the lovely Lady Vigdis, know that the November Monthly Tourney on the iiid day of said month shall be graced by Soul Cakes for the sustance of all. And further, the aforementioned month occasioning the Feast Day of St Catherine upon the xxvth day, there will be Cattern Cakes for my saint’s name’s sake. For those not approving of the old saints, then it is a day in especial honour of lace-makers and the Queen.

I wanted to encourage activities at the barony’s monthly tourneys which didn’t revolve around the fighting. Everyone likes cakes so….

Soulmass cakes were traditionally baked  at the beginning of November to celebrate All Hallows E’en and All Souls’ Day. The small cakes are filled with spices and mixed fruit, and usually have a cross marked on them. I used a recipe redacted from that of Lady Elinor Fettiplace (1604).

Cattern cakes are similar but have caraway seed and currants for flavouring. They are associated with St Katherine of Alexandria or, in England, with Queen Katherine of Aragon, who was said to have destroyed her lace to give employment to the local women. This is remembered in the following rhyme:

Queen Katherine loved to deck with lace
The royal robes she wore;
But though she loved to wear her lace,
She loved the lace-folk more.
So now for good Queen Katherine’s sake
Put bones and sticks away,
And keep the yearly festival
And sing on ‘Kattern Day

In France, unmarried women over the age of 25 were called “Catherinettes”. They consoled each other on their unwed state, singing:

A husband, St. Catherine!
A handsome one, St. Catherine!
A rich one, St. Catherine!
A nice one, St. Catherine!
And soon, St. Catherine!

As form of  consolation prize, their friends would make them yellow or green hats, so they might demonstrate their faith and wisdom, respectively.

There are vague references to earlier St Catherine’s Day celebrations when women dressed up in male attire and indulged in “unfettered merry-making, including amorous (or violent) advances to passing men” !

The cakes got eaten before I thought about taking photos — didn’t notice any ladies in men’s clothing though….

katherine kerr”

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PGC2019: Mistress katherine kerr’s Materia Medica

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This entry, in the category “Throw physic to the dogs; I’ll have none of it”, is by Mistress katherine kerr, who describes it below:

“I keep a small collection of materials to assist in the health of those around me with simples and tisanes and the like. Such knowledge I have from the older folk and a few texts from the ancients recommending treatments, though some of these be more effective than others.

I have long wanted to do a cabinet of curiosities or wunderkammer, and have been collecting items for it (a cowrie shell, some bones and fossils and suchlike). Lacking a highly fancy cabinet or spare room to devote to this, the plan has lain dormant for a number of years until the Baronial Challenge combined with a chance flick through Umberto Eco’s The Infinity of Lists (Maclehose Press, 2009).

Illustrations on page 179 and 235 showed small collections in something akin to a modern shadow box; I had had one of those sitting under a table for many years just waiting for the right project….

So here is a collection primarily of materia medica, to match Challenge 13. It is modelled after the 1470 rendition of the material collection in the Book of Simple Medicines, a manuscript written by Salerno physician Matthaeus Platearius.

The box consists of:

(1) a lapidary shelf containing lynx stones (thought to be petrified urine), otherwise cited as belemnites by Conrad Gessner; white and red corals; a cowrie shell; and a portion of a large snakestone (ammonite)

(2) a shelf of scribal equipment; not exactly medical, but such items as seals and wax were not uncommonly seen on shelves in period portraits

(3) a shelf containing a variety of materials in a variety of containers: spices in a Mary Rose pomander (made by Master Edward Braythwayte) and in cloth bags; pearls and yellow amber beads strung on silk; rose oil in a corked glass jar; and walnuts in a pasteboard container with a skull on top to remind us that Death is always with us

(4) a herbal shelf, holding fenkel seeds; lemon balm; stickadove, more commonly known as lavender; rosemary; and mint unguent

The box is accompanied by writings covering the medical knowledge associated with each material, held together by a leather point, as was common practice.”

A period image of such a item can be viewed here.

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