This document was submitted in support of an entry into the SCA Arts & Sciences competition known as “Ice Dragon” held April 14, 2018, in the Barony of the Rhydderich Hael (see h ttp://www.ice­dragon.info/) .

Many thanks to the individuals who judged this and all entries and provided feedback on them, as well as to those who organized and staffed the event.

Further related material can be found on the web at http://shoesbyrobert.com/shoeswp/projects/a­pair­of­black­and­whites/

Copyright 2018 by Ken Stuart (Lord Robert of Ferness), except for the illustrations, which are cited from their original sources. The author may be contacted at k [email protected] with questions, comments, etc.

Decorated Viking Age Turnshoes for Court Categories Leatherworking and Accessories: non­textile. (Also, Special 5­in­1 for Leatherworking, Accessories: non­textile, Heraldic Display, Needlework: embroidery, Fiber Arts: weaving)

THL Elska á Fjárfelli requested that I make her a pair of shoes to wear at court tonight, for her special appearance on the occasion of her Laural­induction ceremony. Specifically, she asked them to be replicas of exemplars known from 10th­century Dorstadt.

Thus, this entry, made to fit her and for her, most personally.

Although this pair of shoes is not the first I’ve made, it does incorporate a number of “firsts” for me, including first leather embroidery, first finger weaving, and first card weaving; also my first use of fur on shoes. (As for the weaving, this is not only the first time I’ve applied it as decoration on shoes, it’s the first time I’ve ever attempted finger­ and card­weaving projects of any size whatsoever.)

Some surviving medieval shoes sport embroidery and many more have traces of its use inferred from needlework patterns in the leather. Some have heraldic motifs. To my knowledge, however, no Viking Age shoes display heraldic designs: the Vikings didn’t really do heraldry, not as we often use it these days.

However, these bespoke shoes include a heraldic aspect because it’s an easy way to decorate them with a design unique to their wearer. The use of embroidery and finger weaving and card weaving to create the motif makes them even more interesting. I used finger weaving in order to create a component that could be curved into a circle, and I used tablet weaving to make a flat band that could interweave with the circle and itself when forming the star. Embroidery seemed a suitable way to cover the long outline of each sun in the device.

Elska’s badge: Or, on a sun sable, a mullet voided and interlaced within and conjoined to an annulet argent.

Pattern: Dorstadt, 10th­century, see illustrations below from Volken (pp. 125 and 373) and Goebitz (p. 149). This was created based on a duct­taped mold of Elska’s feet in order to achieve correct sizing. (Obviously duct tape is not period, however we have no written sources detailing how medieval shoemakers created their patterns. Likely they were based on measurements made using body parts, such as finger­widths, and guild­members­only knowledge and techniquest acquired through years of apprenticeship.)

Goebitz, page 149, showing a reconstruction drawing and patterns for the upper and sole. The pointed back end of the sole is drawn up into the upper during stitching, providing a thicker leather where the wearer strikes the ground with her heel.

Materials: vegetable­tanned leather purchased from Tandy; all white embroidery, weaving, and stitching thread is 100% linen from Lithuania; the black thread is linen as well; the stitching and embroidery thread was hand­waxed with beeswax. The white leather used for the toggle fastenings came from my scrapbox and its origin is unknown. Swann specifies that some early medieval Norwegian shoe decoration was linen (2001, p. 59).

Stitching: done with straight awl and waxed­ends (see Appendix A). Linen thread was deemed most plausible. Very little, if any, stitching material has survived to us today, disappearing into the soil even though the leather survives.

Process:

1. After creating the mold of Elska’s foot and flattening it, I cut out a prototype pattern from canvas, tweaked it so that the sole and upper matched properly, then cut the leather.

2. I then traced an outline of her badge onto the vamp and embroidered it with two simple running lines over­and­under, then finger­wove and card­wove the circle and star elements. I tack­stitched these components to the vamp. I used 8 strands of linen thread for the finger weaving and 16 strands in the card weaving (4 cards).

3. Next, I applied the banding to the edges of the flaps by whip­stitching on a thin piece of scrap leather.

4. Following that, I saddle­stitched the sole to the upper, both parts being inside­out. Then I soaked the shoes for about 10 minutes in order to make them flexible enough to be turned inside out. Unfortunately one of the side seams split during the turning (I repaired it with a tiny bit of synthetic waxed string, and added some to the same place in the other shoe, because obviously this point of stress needs reinforcement and I’m not confident the linen I have is up to the task.)

5. After they dried, I stitched on strips of white rabbit fur around the opening. I cut slits in the flaps and sides, crafted the toggle buttons from strips of leather, and adjusted them to proper length by tying them inside the shoes, where they may be adjusted if they stretch or the shoes become tight or loose. Although I know of no surviving fur­trimmed shoes, numerous examples include or imply topbands. It’s plausible those could have been fur, which has simply not survived in the ground, just as stitching material has not. I chose white rabbit because of the overall black­and­white palette; snowshoe hares were likely available at the time; and Elska raises rabbits on her homestead.

Volken, page 125, showing a timeline of shoe styles. Elska chose the Dorestadt version, which I have never made before.

Volken, page 373, with details specific to this style of shoe. As in the specification, the shoes made have bands on the flaps (transitioning to fur around the opening), rolled buttons, uppers’ seams on the outside of the foot, and a pointed heel sole. The toe is more pointed than rounded. In place of a “decorative center seam” I applied Elska’s badge.

Swann, page 60, showing some early medieval Norwegian shoe decorations. Challenges and Lessons Learned:

First, I was not at all certain that the attached woven components would look good when applied, or possibly interfere during the turning of the shoe. Although I’m pleased with the result, I suspect that the decoration could be made less bulky and more elegant by using fewer strands in the weaving. Instead of 8 for the finger weaving, I’d like to try 6 or perhaps 4. As for the 16 strands (4 cards), perhaps 12 (3 cards) would suffice.

Second, working with bunny fur proved more… interesting than anticipated. Cutting the skin into strips resulted in a cloud of fibers floating around and landing all over the place. (Perhaps working with it damp would have been better.) Stitching it into place proved challenging because I could not see the white thread against the white skin and fur. I used a large running stitch to attach it, and no doubt it’s uneven in every regard.

Third, the black linen thread breaking during turning was not anticipated. The white thread also broke during stitching a couple of times, and prohibited me from pulling the stitches as tight as I wished when attaching the upper and sole together. I don’t know whether the fault lies with my particular linen, or all linen. I need to learn more about thread weights, fiber length, plies, etc.

Fourth, the vegetable­tanned leather does not behave the same way as others I’ve used: after turning, during drying, it pulled away from its seems a bit. Further, it was found to leak dye a little, despite not doing so in pre­construction testing. Therefore the white decoration may darken if the vamp gets wet.

References:

Goubitz, O., 2007. S tepping Through Time: Archaeological Footwear from Prehistoric Times until 1800. (S PA Uitgevers)

Swann, J., 2001. H istory of Footwear in Norway, Sweden and Finland: Prehistory to 1950. (Kungl. Vitterhets Och Antikvitets Akademien, Stockholm)

Volken, M., 2014. A rchaeological Footwear: Development of Shoe Patterns and Styles from Prehistory til the 1600’s. (S PA Uitgevers) Appendix A: Waxed Ends

During our period, cordwainers and cobblers often used “waxed ends” to stitch one piece of leather to another. They consist of a boar’s nose bristle carefully attached to drawn­out linen thread. I have taped on a sample below.

Waxed ends have some advantages over metal needles: they easily follow an awl’s path made through the thickness of the leather; and they fit through small holes without catching (as often happens with the eye of a metal needle where the thread goes through it, making it relatively large). I also suspect that in period they were much cheaper than metal needles, as is true today.

To make a waxed end, I take 3­ply linen thread and unwind it for about two inches. Then I use a dull knife to scrape each of the three individual plies into fiber at different lengths (bottom, middle, and top of the drawn­out section). I then twist these back together and run them through coad, an especially sticky wax. This results in an extremely finely drawn, sticky length of fiber.

Next, I take a boar’s bristle and split it about half its length; this is not hard because most bristles split naturally and are already started. I run the bristle through a chunk of coad as well.

Now, the tricky part. Insert the thread between the split bristles and snug it against the crotch they form, with about half an inch protruding. Bend that against the lower bristle and then spin it counterclockwise while slowly winding the other thread down over it for its length. Once done, keep the bristle spinning while moving the thread back up over what was already laid down until reaching the split in the bristle.

Now, twist one side of the split bristle and the main thread overhand for a couple of inches, then clamp the two bristle sides together and counter­twist them backwards. Hold them tightly and apply more coad.

Use your favorite search engine with “waxed ends” to find videos that demonstrate this in practice. Speaking of which, it takes some practice to make these, but it’s worth the time to figure it out and use them for stitching. Large quantities of boar bristles can be purchased on eBay for just a few dollars, so even though you most likely will use each just once, a batch will last a long time.

[A waxed end used in the making of the shoes was attached here.]