Einträge getaggt mit 15th century
Einträge getaggt mit 15th century
The completed scabbard with my 15th century kit
Well folks, I geared up to show you, how the new scabbard looks on my 15th century kit. And yes, these are the joined hosen, my tailor made for me. The red and white striped arming points are the ones, I looped over the last year (while watching Game of Thrones).
And for the very keen eyed: No, I haven’t done the leather gloves for the Kienbusch gauntlets you see there, yet. The ones I wear are not stitched to the gauntlets’ leathers.
Finishing the belt and straps for my scabbard
Last year I built a new scabbard for my refurbished hand-and-a-half sword. I planned to attach a 15th century belt system similar to this one, during winter, but then I had to wait for some brass parts to ship and built me a new anvil for riveting.
Nevertheless, today I found some spare time to proceed with the project. I weaved the knots around the scabbard and experimented a lot with their straps on the backside, because I wanted to have the end of the strap to emerge in a slight angle and with the fair side up front. Well, this was no fun, but I succeded at last.
After that, I tried to cut the two other straps to length. Doing this alone is nigh impossible, because you have to wear your plate breast, hold three separate leather straps and a scabbard with sword in it at once - and then mark where to cut!
Tomorrow, I’ll see if I did cut the straps to the right length. For now, I call it a day.
The Ringeck - by Albion Swords
This hand-and-a-half sword by US-armorer Albion Swords is something I have been drooling over for some years now. It’s such an elegant weapon, resembling swords from the first half of the 15th century. It’s standard specifications are:
Total length:118 cm (46,26”)
Blade length:93 cm (36,5”)
CoG:10 cm (3,98”)
CoP:58 cm (22,76”)
Weight:1500 g (3,307 lbs)
Grip length:18,1 cm (7,126”)
Only the pricetag holds me back from buying it: 795,00 Euro via Albion Europe. That’s a lot of money, but look again: This blade with an oxblood red grip would be fantastic.
Blade for a bollockdagger from Tod’s Stuff
I bought this blade nearly two years ago from the english cutler Leo Todeschini for assembling my own bollockdagger. It’s a onesided blade with a quite thick back. The overall length measures 48 cm. The blade portion alone is 33 cm long and a little bit over 3 cm wide at it’s base.
The blade has a very lively presence. It reminds me a little bit of a japanese sashimi knife. It’s nearly mirror polished and as sharp as a razor.
Research: Two more bollockdaggers from Denmark
Upon special request from fellow tumblr user violette-royale here are two more bollockdaggers from the Danish National Museum. The third dagger seems to be more of a quillon-type. I can’t remember what the plaque read but I guess they wanted to show how this later form of dagger evolved from the bollock type. Or the curators simply count the fleur-de-lis as bollocks. I think this would annoy the french a little bit…
Research: More bollockdaggers (15th century/Denmark)
These bollockdaggers are at display in the Danish National Museum in Copenhague. Note the brass discs at the grips ends. I will try to incorporate this feature into my own bollockdaggers grip.
Research: Bollockdaggers (15th century/Germany)
One of my next projects is to hilt a bollockdagger or as they are called in german “Nierendolche” (Kidneydaggers). The examples above are currently on display at the Reichsstadtmuseum of Rothenburg ob der Tauber.
These were made throughout the 15th century. Note the different kinds of guards beneath the bollocks: they range from very elaborate designs, able to catch another blade, to almost no metal at all (second from the right). On the latter, the bollocks serve as the guard, hence they are so big.
I’ll try to make one of these daggers by myself. Let’s see if I have the bollocks to carve ‘em right…
Behind the scenes (Part 3): At Christian Wiedner’s workshop
Since my arrival at Christian Wiedner’s workshop in the morning, several hours had gone by. It was always the same procedure: holding the breastplate onto my chest, strapping on the pauldrons, checking the fitting of the bevor. Then Wiedner would cut off some piece of metal here, or bend another piece of metal there. He is a perfectionist, who knows that any failure results in ill-fitting armor. Back in the days, this would have meant the difference between a fulfilled life and an untimely death.
“You can go for a walk now, this will take some more time”, Wiedner says and explains that he will fold the breastplates’ rim. At first, I am intrigued by the process of heating, hammering and reheating the metal. The orange glow and the heat of the blowtorch produces a faint reminiscense of the smiths’ and armorers’ work back in the middle ages. But after a while, I get bored and realize that making armor is hard and very repetitive work. And I am glad that Wiedner has given me a pair of earmuffs - he calls them Mickey Mouses - because the process is as loud as it is repetitive.
Only after nightfall we finished the tailoring session. And after six or seven hours of hard work a lot remained to be done: riveting all the parts together, polishing the pieces to a mirror shine and riveting all the leather straps and buckles into place.
Four weeks later I received a really bulky parcel. And its contents fitted me like a second skin.
Behind the scenes (Part 2): At Christian Wiedner’s workshop
My visit at Christian Wiedner’s workshop was somehow midway through the process of getting a very fine tailored half-harness. Several months before, I had contacted him and explained my ideas: A late 15th century German gothic breastplate, completed by pauldrons, spaulders, rerebraces, couters and a pair of besagews. I already had a sallet, bevor and gauntlets, made by him.
He sent me a very detailed list of measurements I had to take. Chest, girth, collarbone - I know my math now. Wiedner then went to work and sent me several pictures of the intermediate results, accompanied with his design concepts. For him, making armor is not limited to copying existing pieces. He also tries to understand the underlying principles of the craft, which makes him more of an artist than a mere craftsman. “I do not think that everyone should wear identical armor-replicas, just because there is only one original example left. That doesn’t befit the overall picture which the living history community tries to convey”, Wieder says.
One of his more artistic ideas was to repeat the clasplike rim of the besagews on the pauldrons’ ridges. In the end, we had to drop that idea during the fitting process, because there was too little space left on the pauldrons’ wings. But it was a cunning plan, nevertheless. (to be continued)
Behind the scenes (Part 1): At Christian Wiedner’s workshop
This time last year I had the pleasure to visit German armorer Christian Wiedner at his workshop near Halle/Saxony-Anhalt. He was not easy to find: he has set up his shop in a vast redbrick building in the middle of a rundown business park on a lonely hilltop. Back in the middle ages, this would have been the perfect spot for a castle.
Wiedner is a nice guy who knows his trade. It’s always cold in his little workshop, which is stuffed from floor to ceiling with tools, anvils and half finished armor parts .”I don’t need any heating, I’ll get warm while working”, he says smiling. Well, he wears an old camouflage parka, I don’t. Soon he’ll be sweating and I’ll get really cold. Customizing a 15th century armor for its wearer takes hours - and most of the time I’ll be wearing cold steel instead of my coat. (to be continued)