A More Period Blackjack

This is my fourth blackjack to date. I have the techniques down fairly well—tracing, cutting, sewing, tooling. How, then, do I continue to challenge myself as a leatherworker?

My goal for this project was to move further from the modern and closer to the medieval. On past projects, I have used overtly modern tools—such as a Dremel tool—and overtly modern finishings—acrylic paint, EnvirotexLite. This project, then, would be completed using an awl to drill the holes (much as my aching hands would come to regret that decision), no tooled and painted designs, and wax to seal the inside. It was the waxing of the interior that had me most nervous—a completely new technique applied late in the project (being the last step before completion) meant the potential for a lot of work wasted, if I got it wrong and ruined the jack.

I also knew that, because there would be no fancy tooled and painted design to draw the eye, the craftsmanship of the vessel itself would have to be its own adornment. Uneven stitching, nicks in the leather, and rough edges would all stand out all the more on this project.

I began by drawing up a measured blueprint of the body of the mug on a piece of waxed parchment paper. I have discovered this to be superior to regular paper, because the wax helps it repel water when it comes time to trace the pattern onto the wet leather, thereby preventing rips and tears in the pattern. The measurements I used were based on a mug I had previously completed, which was assembled from a pattern provided by Lord Geoffrey de Cardeville during an eight-week workshop he taught in the Barony of Lochmere in 2011.

Once the blueprint was drawn up, I wet down a side of ten-ounce, vegetable-tanned cow leather and traced the pattern into it. Then, using an Xacto knife, I cut the body of the blackjack from the side of leather. Since I did not intend to tool any designs into this project, I moved on immediately to the seams. Using a seam marker and a four-hole punch marker, I marked the seams into the leather. Then, using an awl, I bored the sewing holes. This was a long, miserable process, and made me appreciate our modern tools all the more. When the holes were complete, I stitched the jack together using brown waxed linen thread and two needles.

Once the body of the mug was sewn, it was time to measure and cut the bottom insert. This took two attempts to accomplish successfully. On the first attempt, I simply traced around the existing footprint of the body of the mug. This produced a piece that was much too narrow—it wouldn't even stay in place when I tried to sew it in, but if it had, the mug would have been thinner than a modern beer bottle! So I tried again, with a wider piece. It still resulted in a narrower mug than I would have preferred, but it was much better than the first try.

To sew the bottom into the mug, I bored stitching holes into the bottom piece of leather by matching them up to the already-bored holes in the body. These were done five holes at a time, then stitched before drilling the next five. As I have learned in previous projects, the bottom leather piece stretches and moves as it is sewn, so pre-drilling all the holes does not work out very well—they wind up not lining up correctly with the holes in the body.

Once the bottom was sewn in, I soaked the blackjack in cool water for around five minutes. Then I filled the mug with sand. Using a mallet and a dowel rod, I pounded the sand down in tightly. Then I added more sand, and repeated the process. This stretched the leather and created the mug's uniform, round shape. Once it was thoroughly packed, I set it aside to dry out for four days.When it was dry, I poured the sand out of the mug.

Now came the new and exciting part of the process: the waxing. On my previous projects, I have sealed the outside of my vessels with wax and the inside with a completely modern epoxy called EnvirotexLite. For this project, however, I wanted to take a more period approach, and so I intended to seal the entire jack with wax.

In consulting with other leatherworkers, I learned that the best way to go about this is to heat the leather at two hundred degrees Fahrenheit for several minutes (preheating the leather causes it to absorb the wax better) and then submerge it completely in liquid wax. Then, it should be left submerged until no more air bubbles escape the leather. After it is removed from the wax, it should again be heated to melt away any thick, excess wax on the exterior surfaces.

I ran into a problem almost immediately with this plan, however, because the crockpot I use to melt my wax is entirely too small to fully submerge a project this size. So I improvised. After warming the mug in my oven, I submerged the lower half of it in the crockpot of melted wax. Using a ladle, I then poured wax into it while it was still submerged. Then I used a pastry brush to apply wax to the outside surface of the mug. At no time did I observe any air bubbles using this method, so I had to guesstimate how long it should sit to allow the wax to thoroughly penetrate the leather. I then removed the jack from the crockpot, poured out the wax, and placed it upside-down in a pan in my oven for about fifteen minutes to melt off the excess.

When it came out of the oven, I allowed it to cool briefly—not to room temperature, but enough so that fresh wax applied to it would solidify quickly. Then, using my pastry brush, I carefully applied wax to the interior seams of the blackjack.After that, I allowed the blackjack to cool completely to room temperature. I then filled it with water and set it on a piece of newspaper, keeping an eye out for wet spots that would indicate leaks. Only one such spot appeared—water was escaping through two of the stitching holes in the bottom of the mug. I applied more wax over these holes on the exterior of the mug, and then filled it with water again. This time, no leaks appeared.

This finished mug holds twenty ounces. Because it is sealed with wax, it cannot be used for hot beverages.

______________________________________________________________________
Entered In:
Kingdom Arts and Sciences Festival 2016, Atlantia: Barony of Lochmere's Baronial Display

KASF display. (c) Lady Cassair Warwick

An Experiment: Wire-Wrapped Rings

In my never-ending quest to come up with largesse ideas for my 50 States of the SCA quest, I came across wire-wrapped rings. I didn't think it was a skill I'd be particularly adept at, but I since I have a stockpile of beads and wire, I figured I'd give it a whirl.

A friend referred me to this tutorial when I asked where she had learned to make these rings. It sounded simple enough, so I retrieved the supplies I would need and set to work. For the mandrel around which I bent the wire band, I used a thick highlighter marker.

My first few attempts weren't stellar, but I had read that it takes a few tries to get the hang of it. For the first ring, I used a lampwork bead I had received as a token at Atlantia's KASF event several years ago. It came out ... well, not ring-shaped. Unhappy with it, I snipped the wire and recovered the bead.

For my second attempt, I used 26-gauge wire instead of 20-gauge (because I have a TON of 26-gauge wire on hand). This was not a good decision--the wire was simply too thin. A ring made of it wouldn't stand up to much wear and tear at all without bending and probably breaking.

On my third attempt, I began to get the hang of it. I again used a lampwork bead and returned to the 20-gauge wire. You can see in the photo that, while the wrapping is a bit uneven, it definitely is recognizable as a ring! The lampwork bead is obviously too large, however. Ideally, your bead should be only 1 cm - 1.5 cm in width and only .5 cm or so thick.

From then on, I was hooked. In two days, I have made more than thirty rings. They work up really quickly--most of them take less than ten minutes from start until finish!

Here are the steps I follow when I create my rings:

Photo tutorial is from Dollar Store Crafts.

The tutorial says to work with a twelve-inch length of wire. I have found that to be far too long -- most of my rings are made with eight inches or so of 20-gauge enameled copper wire. The wire I work with is dead soft. You can work with wire up to half-hard for this type of project, but I prefer the flexibility.

To create your ring, feed the bead halfway along the wire, so that it is in the center. Holding it against your mandrel, wrap each side of the wire all the way around until it reaches back to the the bead *on the side it started on*. That's right, pass under the bead and keep going until you get to the far side. This is how you create an actual, round ring (instead of the shape I wound up with in my first attempt)!

From here, your creativity takes over. Wrap the bead in any way you think looks lovely. Be sure to end your wrap with the loose ends of wire at each side of the bead, and leave yourself enough length to wrap the ends around the band at least twice. This finishes off your ring. Voila! It's complete.

I have discovered that it is best to allow the wire to guide you in its design around the bead, rather than trying to force it where you think it should go. Also be aware that your wire will become stiffer and more brittle the more you work it--this is called "work hardening."

This one is my favorite of the rings I have made thus far. It's made of a green seashell bead and 20-gauge gold-enameled copper wire. Sadly, I don't think I could intentionally duplicate it if I tried. That's the downside of letting the wire guide you.

And these nine round out my "Top Ten" favorites of the rings I have made so far!